Home Alone
by KEDme
Summary: Summer after OotP, Petunia and Vernon go away for the weekend leaving Dudley in charge. How do Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny fit into all this? Angst, Drama, Humor, Fluff, and Snogging! Fits with OotP Canon.
1. Dursleys Deluded

Disclaimer:  
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter One**

**Dursleys Deluded**

Harry Potter woke from a restless night's sleep with a sense of foreboding and a pounding heart. He sat straight up in bed fighting the tears that threatened to come.

Although he had not dreamed of Voldemort that night, he _had_ dreamed of something just as terrible. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he threw himself violently on his stomach and buried his head in his pillow. Closing his eyes, he tried unsuccessfully to block out the pain.

Had it been only three weeks since the end of term and that fateful night at the Department of Mysteries? Sometimes it felt like yesterday, and sometimes it felt as if it had happened in another lifetime to another person. So many thoughts jumbled through his head that he wished he had a Pensieve like Dumbledore's. He'd give anything to siphon out some of the more troubling thoughts and memories. If he didn't find some way to relieve the tension, he knew he'd lose his mind.

Unfortunately, his mind would not cooperate. Unable to stop them, the thoughts began to stream through his consciousness against his will. They came randomly, without rhyme or reason, each with its own set of memories and pain.

_Sirius' once handsome, now haggard face, smiling at him across the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. Falling backwards through the veil… Lupin holding him back as he screamed…._

_Voldemort's cold, red eyes… possessing him, trying to take control of him. The pain… that feeling of wanting to die, of wanting Dumbledore to put him out of his misery…_

_His parents… his mother's scream and a cold, high-pitched laugh._

_Cedric Diggory falling in a heap, dead…_

_Neither can live while the other survives..._

"Boy! Wake up and get down here!" a voice screeched from the bottom of the stairs. Aunt Petunia sounded as if she were in a horrid mood this morning. Briefly, Harry wondered what he had done (or rather what he had not done) this time, to cause his aunt to sound so angry.

"Coming, Aunt Petunia," Harry yelled back. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for his glasses. As he pulled himself out of bed, he caught sight of himself in the mirror attached to the back of the wardrobe door. What he saw neither surprised him nor caused him great satisfaction.

He had grown over the past year and even his old pajamas were beginning to show the strain a 15-soon-to-be-16-year-old boy could put on his garments. Since they had once belonged to his whale of a cousin, Dudley, it was not surprising that Harry's appearance was scruffy-looking. At least the growth spurt had helped the fit somewhat. No longer baggy, they were very well used. He chuckled humorously to himself as he stared. That was one of the many things he and Ron had in common. Used clothes.

Searching through a pile of dirty clothes on his floor, he pulled out an old shirt and a pair of trousers that had also once belonged to Dudley. If he didn't have so many more important things on his mind, he'd feel very self-conscious about his appearance. As it was, he didn't expect anyone he knew to see him today. What did it matter what he looked like?

The only thing he was thoroughly satisfied with was his shoes. His trainers were the only decent thing he owned, next to his school robes. He had Hermione to thank for that. His best friend had put a charm on them before the last Hogsmeade trip of the year. She had been appalled at the condition that they had been in, and shocked to see Harry trying to squeeze his now size ten feet into the size eight shoes. They were beginning to pinch as he walked and his toes were even starting to stick out of the front where the sole was coming loose.

Thanks to several clever little charms, his shoes now fit him perfectly and looked almost brand new. He smiled at the memory - one of the few from last year that he considered worthy of recalling - as he pulled them on. He was sure he heard Hermione mutter something along the line of "bloody relatives" and some other very uncharacteristic things related to the treatment he received from his so-called family while fixing them. Some of the ice that surrounded his heart melted at the thought of how much his friends cared for him.

Speaking of family… Harry winced as he heard his beefy Uncle Vernon bellow from below. "What's _taking_ you so long, boy? Your Aunt told you to get down here _now_!"

Sighing, Harry ran a hand through his mop of messy black hair. Knowing that a brush would make little improvement to the perpetual mess that seemed to have a mind of its own, he didn't bother with it and left the isolation of his room. Bounding noisily down the steps of number 4 Privet Drive, he knew he could worry about the rest later.

Vernon Dursley was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, a menacing look on his purplish face. "Could you have taken any longer?" he bellowed disapprovingly.

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon. I was just getting dressed," he said, trying to keep his voice even and neutral.

"And another thing," his Uncle said through clenched teeth. "Kindly treat my house with a little more respect. Coming down those steps like that is unacceptable. You'd do well to remember that in future, boy!"

Harry knew very well that Dudley usually came stomping down the steps every day around noon, but he did not think it prudent to point this fact out. Instead he replied dully, "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

Not knowing what to make of Harry's lack of fight, Vernon stared hard at his nephew. Knowing the circumstances surrounding the boy and all his troubles caused him pause, momentarily making him re-think his plans. Just as soon as he had these thoughts, however, they were immediately wiped away with the anticipation of his upcoming trip.

Vernon had slaved over his company, Grunnings, for close to 20 years now. Finally the hard work was paying off. He and Petunia were off to a retreat this weekend for company members to hobnob, socialise, and "network." He'd be damned if the ungrateful little runt would spoil it for him, even if that Voldemorsey-whosey person was back!

"Now listen, boy," Vernon said with a twisted grimace, staring at Harry hard and pointing a stubby finger at his chest. "Your aunt and I are going away for a few days."

Harry looked up sharply at his aunt and uncle, and noticed for the first time their neat and pristine travelling clothes and the packed suitcases stacked near the door. A warm feeling began to spread through his chest and the hint of a smile played on his lips. A weekend free of Dursleys! What could be better?

Before he could wrap his mind around the possibilities, his hopes were shattered by the smirk on his uncle and aunt's faces. Briefly, Harry wondered if crazy old Mrs. Figg had been enlisted to watch over him. That wouldn't be too bad, Harry mused. He had recently found out that the batty old lady was actually a Squib. He did not relish spending the weekend with Mr. Paws and the other cats that shared Mrs. Figg's musty, cabbage-smelling house, though.

He needn't have worried however, because Vernon had other plans. "I have my doubts about leaving you here to have free run of the house, but taking you with us is out of the question so I'm doing the next best thing." Here, he paused to smirk, a self-satisfied, almost gleeful look on his beefy face. "Dudley will be around to keep an eye on you and make sure there's no funny business going on."

Harry's heart sank. Dudley in charge was worse than a hundred of Mrs. Figg's cats. Dudley took great pleasure in making Harry's life as miserable as possible. As a child, his cousin had tormented Harry, using him as a punching bag and the butt of all his jokes. Frequently, Dudley and his friends taunted Harry with names such as "freak" and "weirdo" because strange things always seemed to happen around him. This was bad.

Uncle Vernon went on, seeming to take great pleasure in the miserable look plastered on Harry's face. "We'll be back late on Sunday. While we are gone, I expect you to remain in the house, preferably in your room. No need for the neighbours to be subjected to your unnaturalness. If I hear even a hint of anything out of the ordinary while we're away, I promise you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said benignly. What did he care if the Dursleys were around or not? He pretty much stuck to himself and his own demons, holed up in his room or wandering the neighbourhood trying not to think about… _things, _and staying out of Dudley's way.

Suspicious with his nephew's compliant behaviour, Harry's uncle narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow. It was his aunt, however, that spoke next. "You are not to make a mess of the house while we are away. There's a list of jobs posted in the kitchen, and I expect each and every one to be completed by the time I return. Do _I _make myself clear?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry repeated in the same, irritatingly benign voice.

His aunt narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, like she was trying to figure out his game. "And one more thing… Duddikins is having a few of his little friends over this afternoon. Try to stay out of his way. He doesn't need the likes of you ruining his little get together." Almost as an afterthought, she said sternly, "And don't even think of eating any of the food I've prepared. I've left your meals in containers in the refrigerator."

Harry tried desperately not to panic at the idea of a house full of Dudley's friends. His aunt was talking about the group of troublemakers as if they were five and having a little tea party. Harry knew what kind of parties Dudley and his gang had, and he swore to make himself scarce this weekend. He'd be damned if he'd make himself the target of his git cousin. Not with everything else.

"Come, Petunia," Vernon bellowed, bustling her out the door. "We mustn't dawdle any longer. Dudley is a responsible young man and I'm sure he can handle this ruffian. We mustn't be late. Want to make a good impression, eh?" Vernon shot one last glare back at Harry as he made to shut the door. "Remember, boy. No funny business!" With that last warning, they were gone.


	2. Dudley in Charge

**Chapter Two**

**Dudley in Charge**

Harry wandered into the kitchen to inspect the rather long list of chores he knew would be waiting for him. He was not disappointed. He had just read number thirty-seven, alphabetise the spice rack, when the house shook. Dudley made his first appearance of the day quite earlier than normal by coming down the stairs much louder than Harry had descended earlier.

Far from scared of his rather large cousin, Harry had more of a healthy respect for the amount of bodily harm he could inflict. After all, Dudley had become junior champion heavyweight boxer at his school, Smelting, year before last. This, in itself, resulted in a sense of wariness on Harry's part.

Dudley had, in any case, been kicked off the boxing team after a spot of trouble he had got himself into - all of which was hush-hush and Harry was not supposed to know about it. Besides, Harry had met fear face to face in the form of Lord Voldemort, and Dudley was not, in his opinion, a worthy enough adversary to be feared. This did not mean that he was overjoyed to be spending the next two days in his cousin's charge, however.

Catching sight of the dark haired teenager, Dudley stalked over to him with a menacing, yet equally wary look on his face. Dudley had learned the hard way not to provoke Harry, for he knew very well what his cousin was capable of and also knew that Harry's wand was never far away these days. Beside, Harry was not the puny weakling that he had been. Five years of Hogwarts meals, strenuous Defence training, and trips up and down the castle stairs had shown itself in Harry's physique. No longer was he the puny, small boy that made such an easy target. While still thin and lanky, Harry was now almost as tall as Dudley and his body had begun to fill out with defined muscles, as opposed to the flab that stuck to Dudley's bones.

"Mum and Dad left me in charge," he stated, hesitantly.

"So?" Harry replied, raising his eyebrow defiantly. He refused to allow Dudley to push him around.

"I'm having some friends over," he said, narrowing his eyes in such a way that Harry was strongly reminded of his uncle.

"Yes, I was told that _Ickle Duddikins_ is having a little 'tea' party. And your point is….?"

"Stay out of our way, Potter, or I'll…" Dudley threatened.

"Or you'll what, Dudley? What do you fancy you can do to me?" Harry taunted, resting his hand over his pocket where his wand was hidden.

"I know that you can't use magic outside of that school of yours, or you'll be expelled," Dudley stated with a satisfied smirk. "That means you can do absolutely nothing to me. I have the power here, and you'll do as you're told."

"Yeah, you think so?" Harry said casually, drawing his wand and lightly polishing it on his overly-large shirt. "You may be right… for now. But this time next year will be a different story. I'll be a legal adult and allowed to use magic outside of school. I know a lot of really good jinxes and curses that I'd just _love_ to demonstrate for you. It'd make that piggy tail of yours look like primary school stuff, if you catch my meaning." Harry was amused to see Dudley's large round eyes widen almost to eyebrow level and knew that he had made his point.

"Fine," he conceded angrily. "But stay out of our way. And another thing… if you breathe a word of anything you see to Mum and Dad, your little magic stick won't help you when I get through with you. Got it?"

Wondering what Dudley was up to, Harry just shrugged his shoulders and pushed past his cousin. He needed some air.

Sitting on the back patio in the garden, a privilege that he rarely got with his aunt and uncle around, Harry closed his eyes and let the warmth of the new sun wash over him.

He had a bad feeling about this weekend. Funnily enough, for once his feelings of dread had less to do with Voldemort and more to do with this gathering that Dudley was hosting.

Harry knew the boys that Dudley hung out with and he also knew the reputation that they had made for themselves as the neighbourhood bullies and vandals. Dudley and his gang were quite well known for picking on and beating up younger kids, destroying public property, and meeting at other people's houses to smoke and get drunk… all under the noses of their doting parents. His aunt and uncle really had no clue when it came to their 'Ickle Duddikins'.

"Wotcher, Harry! Why so glum?" a voice said out of nowhere right behind his left ear, startling Harry so much that he jumped and banged his knee on the patio table where he had been lounging.

Looking around he was relieved to come face to face with Nymphadora Tonks, an Auror and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Today her hair was bright green, short, and spiky, but longer on one side than the other. Various earrings and body piercings adorned her ears, nose, and belly button, which was visible because of the cropped tank top and low-cut hip-hugger jeans that she was wearing under her vibrant, open robes.

"Tonks! Don't sneak up on me like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Harry yelled, rubbing his sore knee.

"Sorry, Harry. You just looked like you needed a bit of a shock to break you out of that funk you seem to be in just now."

"Maybe," Harry grumbled. "But next time warn me. I could have hexed you, as jumpy as I've been lately."

"With what? I've got your wand," she smiled triumphantly, brandishing the wooded stick that had become an extension of Harry in the five short years that he had owned it and twirling it between her fingers like a baton.

"How'd you manage that?" asked Harry, disappointed with himself that he hadn't noticed and reaching to retrieve it from the petite woman as she sat down across from him.

"Auror's secret," she said slyly.

"I was under the impression that you were dead clumsy," he grumbled.

"All the more impressive, isn't it? Seriously, though… a herd of hippogriffs could have trampled by and you probably wouldn't have noticed. What's up?"

Instead of answering her, Harry took a few minutes to appraise her current state of dress. "You're looking very rebellious today," he observed.

"So I am," she admitted. "And you're avoiding the question."

"All right, fine," Harry sighed, slightly irritated. Tonks always seemed to be able to cut to the chase. She wasn't known for her tact or subtlety after all. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon went away for the weekend leaving Dudley in charge of me. Happy?"

"Your oaf of a cousin? In charge?" Tonks whistled softly. "No wonder you're looking glum. I've seen what he and his gang get up to when they think no one is looking."

"I have a huge pile of housework to do, and Dudley is having 'tea' with his cronies this afternoon here at the house. Welcome to the joys of my life at Privet Drive." His voice dripped with bitter sarcasm.

"Tea, huh?" Tonks laughed. "The only tea I bet _they'll_ be drinking will be laced with vodka!" Harry would have laughed along with her, but his heart wasn't in it.

Tonks became thoughtful. "Does Dumbledore know that your aunt and uncle are out of town, Harry?"

"No," he said sharply. "And I don't want him to, either."

"Why not?" Tonks asked, confused by his tone.

"Dumbledore's got enough on his mind without having to worry about me," Harry said firmly. This, however, was not the full truth. Despite his promise to keep Harry in the loop, Dumbledore had yet to communicate with him beyond the conversation after Sirius' death and brief messages sent through others in the Order. Harry didn't know what he had expected, but certainly it was more than this!

"Dumbledore does care about you Harry," Tonks said gently, reaching over to put a hand on his arm. "We all do."

"I know," Harry said grudgingly, eyes downcast. "But I can't help but feel that there are things I should be doing…." Harry wished he could say more but, as far as he knew, no one outside of he and Dumbledore was aware of the contents of the prophecy.

'…_And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…'_

A tense silence followed his outburst. Unaware that a dark cloud had settled over his face and that his jaw had visibly clenched, Tonks interrupted his thoughts. "Is there something you're not telling me, Harry?"

"No," he answered, forcing himself back to the present. "No, I'm fine. Probably tired, that's all." He wasn't fine, but he was not about to admit that to her.

"If you ever need to talk, I'm here," she said sympathetically. "You know, I miss him too."

Harry looked up sharply. She thought he was thinking of Sirius! The thought of his godfather caused his heart to constrict painfully. He was at a loss for what to say, but knew he had to say something, so he muttered, "Yeah, maybe."

She seemed satisfied with that answer and said brightly, "I best be getting back to guard duty. Moody would have a seizure if he saw me sitting here soaking up the sun instead of watching out for dark wizards and the like. You know… _Constant_-"

"-_Vigilance_!" Harry finished for her. "Yes, I know." He smiled a true smile at her efforts to cheer him up. "How long will you be around?" he asked absently, part of him still lost in his gloomy thoughts.

"Dunno," she sighed. "Mundungus is supposed to come relieve me around noon, but hard to tell when that will be. Figgy heard him making a deal with some bloke down the street the other day. Something about a flock of owls… I don't think I really want to know, though. Haven't seen hide nor hair of him since. If I was Dumbledore I wouldn't trust him with a flobberworm, much less the Boy-Who-Lived. Then again, you have a knack for taking care of yourself, anyways, I think," she said with a wink.

"Yeah, right," Harry said sarcastically. "I'm lucky that way. It's nice to have a talent for surviving trouble when I find myself in it so often."

She laughed. "Speaking of trouble, here comes that cousin of yours. I'd better get back to my post. Take care Harry!" And with that she promptly Disapparated with a soft pop.

"Who was that?" Dudley demanded, looking down at Harry who was busy lounging in the chair, his eyes half closed from the brightness of the sun.

"Who? I don't see anyone," Harry said innocently, a picture of mock perplexityon his thin face.

"That strange woman with the green hair. I've seen her here before and at the train station when we picked you up a few weeks ago, although she always seems to have a different hairstyle every time I see her. She's one of your kind, isn't she? Ooh… Dad would have a conniption if he knew!" he said gleefully, rubbing his hands together.

"But you're not going to tell him, are you Dud, or I might have to just remember a few things I'm supposed to forget, right?" Harry replied coolly.

"Right…," Dudley said slowly, seeming to take great effort in agreeing with him.

"So what's on the agenda for today? Got any ten year olds to terrorise, or will it just be the usual mayhem and mania?" Harry asked.

"I'm having some friends over around two," Dudley said stiffly. "So keep out of our way or I might just have to rearrange you face."

"Fine, fine… No problem, Big D.," Harry said unconcerned. "Why would I want to interrupt your boring little party anyway? Sounds really dull, if you ask me." He purposely goaded his cousin because he had a feeling this approach might get a reaction. He was not disappointed.

"Shows what you know, Potter," Dudley snorted. "Bet you and your friends have never done half the things that we get up to at our parties. Bunch of namby-pamby weirdoes wouldn't know fun if it smacked them in the face!"

"Well, now. Unless I know what exactly it is you're talking about we'll never know, now will we?" Harry replied, drumming his fingers on the glass tabletop in mock boredom, his curiosity piqued despite his best intentions. Just what did 'normal' Muggle teenagers do for fun? Then again, was Dudley really a normal teenager?

"Tell you what," Dudley said with a suspicious-looking smirk. "Why don't you hang out with us and find out? That way if Mum or Dad finds out you'll be in as much trouble as me, if not more. I can always blame it on you…" he said, seeming to think out loud. "They'd be easy to convince, considering how much they hate you."

"Thanks for that lovely invitation, Dud," Harry said, dripping with sarcasm. "But why would I want to hang out with you and a bunch of bully Muggles whose main ambition is to cause me bodily harm? Do you think I'm crazy or just stupid?"

"Ah, well…Okay," Dudley shrugged. Turning to go, he muttered under his breath, "Would've expected as much coming from a 'fraidy-cat, weirdo like you. What, with your _nightmares_ and all…"

"What did you say?" Harry said dangerously, through clenched teeth.

Dudley spun around. "I called you _scared_, Potter. '_Fraidy_-cat… _chicken_," he taunted. "You may be a big bad wizard, but I don't think you could hang one night with my crowd. We're manlier than you'll ever hope to be!"

Feeling in his gut that this was a bad idea, Harry nevertheless was powerless to stop himself. "Tell you what, Big D," he said through clenched teeth. "You and your cronies lay off me for one night and I'll take you up on that bet. I'm sure I'll have no problem 'hanging' with _you_, as long as it doesn't involve beating up on innocent _children_."

"If I agree, will you promise not to use magic on me ever again?" Dudley asked a little too quickly, an odd gleam in his eye.

"Tell you what. If you and your friends lay off me for the rest of the summer and don't put the blame on me for this little party of yours, then I'll promise I won't hex you once I turn seventeen."

"You wouldn't dare!" Dudley yelled furiously, but Harry could see the worry in his eyes.

"After everything you've done to me over the years, do you really think I won't? I've lain awake at night dreaming of the things I could do for revenge. Ever thought what you'd look like as a rubbish bin?" Harry almost laughed at the look of pure terror that crossed Dudley's fat face. He let this threat sink in before he continued.

"But I'm willing to let bygones be bygones" he said generously, "_if_ you agree to never lay a finger on me again. And that goes for your friends as well. I just want to be left alone. I have bigger problems than you and your Muggle henchmen, and I don't fancy wasting my energy watching my back for you lot. Do we have a deal?" Harry said, holding out his hand in truce.

"You mean, if I promise to leave you alone, you promise to leave me alone?" Dudley asked suspiciously, looking at Harry's outstretched hand in barely disguised fear. "Does that go for your freak friends too?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. I promise not to hex you unless I'm defending myself. I may be bored, Dudley, but I'm not stupid. I can't control what my friends do, but I promise to not let them do anything to you on purpose, _if_ I can help it. I didn't know about the Ton Tongue Toffee. Fred and George did that all on their own."

"After tonight we stay away from each other and, as long as you keep your fists to yourself, I'll keep my wand in my pocket. Deal?" he asked again, thrusting his hand forward and practically daring Dudley to take him up on his offer. He had a feeling that this deal could backfire on him but at the moment he didn't really care. Anything to help him get through this summer would be better than his current situation.

Dudley hesitated before shaking, but he finally met Harry's outstretched hand with a firm handshake of his own.

"Deal," Dudley said tightly, gripping his cousin's hand harder than necessary.

Harry, despite his curiosity about what the night would bring, had a sinking feeling he may have just made a deal with the devil.


	3. The Gang's All Here

**Chapter Three**

"**The Gang's All Here"**

Harry spent the rest of the day on the housework that Aunt Petunia had left for him. He had just finished number seventeen - organise the freezer. Letting the cool air waft over him as he stuck his head in the freezer, he couldn't help but think is was one of the more pleasurable tasks Aunt Petunia had ever assigned him. The sticky July heat was really beginning to get to him and the Dursleys didn't have central air in their home. What he wouldn't give to be able to do magic and perform a simple cooling charm on the house! He was thinking about the possibilities when the first of Dudley's "guests" arrived.

Piers Polkiss was the first to arrive. Piers was well-known in the neighbourhood to be a bully in his own right. But, because he was smaller and slightly less intelligent than Dudley, he was considered to be the lieutenant or second-in-command of the tight-knit group Harry had long ago dubbed 'Dudley's Gang.' Dudley was, of course, the undisputed leader.

Harry had a long and unpleasant history with Piers, culminating with the zoo incident on Dudley's eleventh birthday, when Harry had accidentally set a rather large boa constrictor loose. It seemed that Piers, on catching sight of Harry, had remembered the incident as well.

"Talk to any snakes lately, freak?" he asked in a sneering voice.

Far from intimidated, Harry frowned. He thought about simply ignoring him, but changed his mind. "Ummm…. No," Harry answered, appearing to think hard about it. "Not for a few years now, when I killed a giant snake to save the life of this girl I know."

Dudley stiffened and shot Harry a warning look but Piers laughed. "I forgot what I liar you are, Potter. No girl would come within ten feet of you!"

Harry didn't say anything, because he didn't know what to say. He wanted to retort with a witty response, but the truth was the only experience he had with girls was not much to brag about. His failed attempt at a relationship with Cho and a miserable date to the Yule Ball with Parvati were all he could think of at the moment. He really _was_ rubbish at anything to do with girls.

Seeing his cousin's confidence falter, Dudley couldn't help but chime in. "Heard anything from your boyfriend, Cedric, lately? Has he dumped you for another man?" He and Piers both laughed.

Harry's jaw clenched and he fought to stop his hand that was itching to draw his wand. That would shut him up, he thought angrily. Instead he controlled the urge and said, "Don't go there, Dudley," in his most menacing voice, hoping that Dudley would get the point.

Harry smirked with satisfaction at the confusion on Piers' rat-like features as he witnessed Dudley's round, piggy face contort in fear. He eyed Harry hatefully. Turning to Dudley, he snarled, "What's he _doing_ here? I thought you said you'd get rid of him."

"I changed my mind," Dudley said, recovering. "Potter – I mean _Harry_ – is joining us today."

Harry smiled even wider to see the horrified look that crossed Piers' pointy face. "You're joking!" he exclaimed. "Since when do we let weirdo freaks in on our meetings?"

"Come outside and I'll explain," Dudley said, pulling Piers out on the front porch and slamming the door.

Harry wished he had time to go get his invisibility cloak from his room. He'd give anything to know what they were planning. Whatever it was, his instincts told him it was not good.

He thought about backing out when he heard Dudley and Piers laugh loudly, but his stubbornness and Gryffindor nobility kicked in. He had made a deal. His pride wouldn't let him back out now and no matter what, he'd see it through. Even if it killed him.

Harry's internal debate was put on hold by the sudden return of Dudley and Piers. They were accompanied by the rest of Dudley's gang, a group of three boys who strongly reminded Harry of Crabbe and Goyle with their overly large heads and stupid, vacant expressions. Today all five boys were laughing at a secret joke, and Harry had the distinct impression it had something to do with him.

"You remember Gordon, Malcolm, and Dennis, don't you Harry?" Dudley asked sweetly.

"Yes," Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I recall meeting them a time or two. Usually it involved a toilet or dustbin, but it gets fuzzy from there."

"You'd better watch yourself, Potter," Piers warned. "You and Dudley may have an… understanding…" he said, shooting Dudley an angry but obedient look, "but the rest of us still don't much like you. You'd do well to remember that, just in case you get any funny ideas."

"Oh, I'll remember," Harry said offhandedly. "I know you'd like nothing better than to smash my head in. I'm just glad my dear cousin has come around."

Here, Harry paused to clap Dudley hard on the back. "I don't know if he's told you or not, but I have something really special all planned out next summer for Big D here. I've been saving up for ages just to give it to him." Harry was pleased to note that Dudley had caught his meaning.

"Hmmm," Piers said, crossing his arms and surveying Harry menacingly. He looked as if he was about to say more when Dudley suddenly cut in.

"So, lads," he boomed in his best leader voice, clapping his hands together and moving as far away from Harry as he could get. "What have you brought me today? Hope it's better than our last meeting. We want to initiate my dear cousin in style, after all. Nothing but the best for _him_, eh?" Harry was sure he heard a double meaning in these words and he vowed to stay on guard.

"Too, right Big D," Piers answered sinisterly as the other murmured agreement. "Dennis, did you manage to acquire the desired beverages?"

"Yep," the largest of the three said stupidly, gesturing to a large bag in the corner by the door.

"Good, good," Piers said. Turning to one of the other three he asked, "Malcolm, did you nick the video we discussed from your dad's sock drawer?"

"Got it right here," Malcolm answered, pulling the video out from under his shirt.

Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It seemed rather odd for this group to be excited about an ordinary video, so he supposed it must be one of _those_ movies that he'd heard Dudley watch in his bedroom whenever his parents were out. He'd heard the disgusting noises coming from his cousin's room often enough this summer.

"We'll have to hook the player up down here. We want a good show for our new… freak, I mean, friend… here," Piers said, eyeing Harry with distaste. Harry returned the look with what he hoped was a nasty one of his own.

"Gordon," Piers said, turning away from Harry to address the last of the three buffoons. "Did you talk your brother into getting us that other _item_ we discussed?"

Gordon patted his trouser pocket. "Got it right here," he said.

"Brilliant! We'll save that for later, shall we?" Piers said, obviously very pleased. "First things first." Turning to Dudley, he asked, "D, did your mum leave us some food?"

Dudley smiled broadly. "Yep, it's all laid out in the kitchen. She was very pleased to accommodate me and my best mates and made enough for a small army. Hope it'll last," he shrugged, "but we can always get more down the street at the corner store if we run low. They left me loads of pocket money. Harry would be glad to get it, wouldn't you Harry?"

"Er… sure…," he replied uncertainly.

"Piers, why don't you and Malcolm go up to my room and get the video player. The rest of us will set up down here," Dudley said, that note of authority back in his voice.

"Right-O, Big D!" Piers exclaimed, snapping to attention. "Come on, Malcolm." Harry watched as the two ascended the stairs and wondered again why he had agreed to do this.

Half an hour passed while Harry watched Piers and Malcolm struggle to hook up the video player in the downstairs living room. In the meantime, Dudley, Dennis, and Gordon made themselves busy arranging the furniture around the TV, and setting out some of the food and drink. Whatever the movie was, Harry thought it must be a good one - the boys almost seemed to be bouncing in anticipation.

"You're in for a real treat, Potter," Piers said, although it did not sound as if he really thought Harry deserved something so good. "Malcolm's dad has a quite a collection, and if this latest is anything like the others, then we'll see just what kind of a man you really are. Too bad Cedric's not here to hold your hand!" He exchanged a meaningful look with Dudley.

This comment set Harry's temper alight. He knew Dudley had told them about his nightmares and hearing him wake up yelling Cedric's name. Dudley had no right to tell them about _that_! The others laughed and elbowed each other, congratulating each other on getting in a good one on the boy they'd been trained to hate since childhood.

Just as Harry was getting really annoyed at the ridicule and about to tell them to shove off, the doorbell rang.

"Who could that be? I told the others not to come until around four," Dudley grumbled. "Potter, go to the door and get rid of whoever it is," he ordered.

Wanting to argue but not seeing the point, Harry trudged to the door. It gave him an excuse to get away from the Muggles and calm down.

In the back of his mind he was mulling over what Dudley had said. Just how many others were coming? Harry's uneasiness increased tenfold as he approached the door, knowing that if more Muggles showed up he would be greatly outnumbered - even _with_ his wand.

He needn't have feared, however. As he opened the door Harry realised that the odds had just turned in his favour. Standing on the doorstep were three very familiar redheads, grinning from ear to ear, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Harry had never been so relieved or grateful in all his life to see his friends.

"Hi, Harry!" Ron said with a lopsided grin.

"Ron… Fred… George… What are you _doing_ here?" he managed to stutter.

Ron laughed. "We're watching your back, mate," he said, grinning at Harry's still dazed look.

"Tonks overheard Dudley and his friends talking outside, and it seems they have plans for you," Fred said, confirming what Harry suspected all along. "She thinks they're up to no good. So, as soon as Mundungus came to take over his shift, she Apparated to the Burrow to find us. Lucky George and I were around. We _insisted_ on coming."

"How did you get here?"

"We used some crazy old bat's fireplace just down the street. Cat-lover, that one," Ron said dryly.

"Yep, Harry mate. Wouldn't miss it for the world," George said, rubbing his hands together in glee.

"What better way to spend a weekend? Tormenting your fat blob of a cousin and his friends was just too good anopportunity to turn down," Fred agreed.

Harry hesitated to let them in. He really appreciated the sentiment, but he did not relish letting Fred and George loose on a group of unsuspecting Muggles, even if they were the nastiest sort. Anything could happen.

"Aren't you going to invite us in?" Ron asked. "Or are we going to hang out here all night."

Harry didn't move. "Listen, guys," he began. He was trying to think of a way to say this as tactfully as possible. "I really appreciate this but... you realise I can't afford another letter from the Improper Use of Magic Office. I'd be chucked out for sure this time."

"Harry… _Harry, mate_!" Fred said, attempting to sound hurt. "How long have we known each other? Don't you trust us? What could possibly make you think we'd do something to get you into trouble?" Fred's speech was meant to reassure Harry, but he said it in a way that was not reassuring in the least.

"And for your information, Tonks already gave us the 'behave yourselves, you're there to help Harry' speech," George added as they both pushed past Harry.

"So where are the little maggots - I mean, Muggles - anyway?" Fred asked a little too loudly, looking around the entrance hall with a predatory look on his face.

Dudley had just wandered out into the hallway in time to catch sight of the red-headed Weasleys pushing their way inside. He stopped dead in his tracks. Feeling slightly smug, Harry couldn't suppress a grin when Dudley's eyes widened in shock and he looked ready to faint on the spot. Everyone in the hallway knew that he had recognised the culprits of the Ton-Tongue Toffee that had got the twins in so much hot water with their mother just before the Quidditch World Cup two summers ago.

"Wh... what…" Dudley sputtered. "You can't…"

But exactly what they couldn't do was lost on Fred and George as they shoved past the shell-shocked Dudley and made for the sitting room. "Hello there, again, Dursley," George nodded at Harry's fat cousin as he passed.

"Fancy seeing you here," Fred quipped, clapping Dudley hard on the shoulder as he followed his brother, sending him stumbling. The tall, lanky Weasley twins towered over Dudley's squat form.

Ron just gave Dudley an appraising look of disgust. Harry was pleased and amused to note that Ron was also several inches taller than Dudley and had a lean, fit physique compared to Dudley's bulging middle.

"Dursley," he acknowledged tersely, not moving from Harry's side.

"Our mate, Harry, here said there was a party of sorts going on and we just couldn't resist…" Harry heard George say loudly as he made himself at home in the living room.

"Hope you don't mind," Fred announced loudly, not sounding if he cared if they did, in fact, mind. "George and I can't resist a good party."

Harry took this time to pull Ron aside. "Look, Ron," he whispered desperately. "You know I can't afford to use any kind of magic at all around here. If I get another notice from the Ministry, I'm through."

"Fred and George know that, Harry. Tonks already warned them," Ron told him. "They intend to just scare the poor blokes to death. Really, it'll be all right…" But at that moment they heard Fred and George laugh loudly from the other room. Ron looked at Harry helplessly. "…I think," he added.

"Ron," Harry tried again. "These are _Muggles_ and I'm almost certain loads more are on their way, from the sound of it," he appealed.

Dudley had recovered from his shock enough to turn his anger on his cousin. He stalked over to the whispering pair and jerked Harry around, almost knocking him to the floor. "Get rid of them, Potter, or I'll…."

Ron stepped in front of Harry, who was still trying to restore his balance. "Or you'll what, Dursley?"

"I'll tell Dad," Dudley said smugly.

"No you won't," Harry said, stepping up beside Ron. "In case you don't know, Fred and George are _of age_. They are fully trained wizards and _allowed_ to do magic anytime they want."

"Yeah," Ron jumped in, "so unless you want your memory modified, I'd be very careful."

Dudley paled. "That's impossible," he whispered.

Harry knew his cousin was beat. "Nope," he said. "A simple _Oblivate_ and you'll remember whatever we want you to remember."

Ron looked sideways at Harry. "Of course, the last person we _Obliviated_ ended up in St. Mungos long-term resident ward with his brains scrambled. Such a shame…" He muttered fixing a long, cold stare in the direction of Harry's overly large cousin.

Dudley weighed his options. "If I let you stay, no funny business," Dudley warned. "And that goes for _them_ as well." He pointed in the direction of the living room where Fred and George's boisterous voices could be heard clearly.

"I can't promise that," Ron told him earnestly. "No one but Mum and my sister, Ginny, can control those two. It's pointless to even try. So, unless you fancy being turned into a canary, I'd watch what I eat from now on. You never know what they're going to do."

Dudley's face turned green. "Buck up, Big D," Harry said lightly, loving every minute of torture his poor cousin was feeling. It served him right for all the years of misery he had put _him_ through! "You're party just got a lot more interesting."

He and Ron looked at each other and laughed. Harry suddenly found himself feeling a whole lot better.

A/N: Thanks to Arnel for supporting me through this rewrite and Melinda for all her encouragement and advice. You both are the best! Thanks also to the readers, especially the ones leaving reviews. I appreciate your words of encouragement. So, where are Hermione and Ginny, anyway and how do they end up at Harry's? The answers to those questions are on their way!


	4. Hermione and Ginny

**Chapter Four**

"**Hermione and Ginny"**

Just as Aunt Petunia was waking Harry up back on Privet Drive, Hermione Granger's mother was taking a more pleasant approach to rouse her sleeping daughter and her daughter's red-headed friend, Ginny Weasley. Wonderful smells were wafting up from the downstairs kitchen, slowly bringing the two girls around to consciousness.

Ginny Weasley had been staying with the Grangers for the past week working on a summer project for her Muggle Studies class. As was her custom, the older girl had eagerly volunteered to help her complete it as soon as Ginny had told her about it. She promptly invited Ginny to stay over at the earliest possible opportunity.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had readily consented to allow Ginny to go, considering the recent turn of events in the Wizarding world. They felt it would do their only daughter some good to get away from the daily reports of Dark Wizard sightings and the innuendo surrounding the events at the Department of Mysteries.

For her part, Ginny was very glad that Hermione had agreed to help her with the Muggle Studies project. Ginny herself had very little experience with Muggles, despite the fact that her father worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic and was thoroughly obsessed with them. Having been raised in a Wizarding family (and a poor Wizarding family at that) she had very little opportunity to mix with Muggles.

Characteristic of Hermione, she had thrown herself into her role of tutor. Secretly, she wondered whether or not Hermione was compensating for the letdown of the completion of O.W.L.s and needed something to occupy her time. The thought that Hermione was trying to distract herself from the mounting tension in the Wizarding world and Harry's problems also crossed Ginny's mind on more than one occasion.

Ginny stretched under the covers like a cat waking up from a long, satisfying nap. Thankfully, she had not dreamed _the dream _last night and she felt better rested than usual after a full night's sleep. She wished she could return to her glorious slumber. The delicious smell from the kitchen began to drift into Hermione's uncharacteristically girlish room and she felt her stomach lurch with longing.

Opening one tired eye, Ginny smiled at the memory of seeing this room for the first time a week ago. Hermione had seemed somewhat embarrassed by the floral prints, pink carpet, and pouffy frills. Ginny was shocked at first how feminine the room was.

First impressions weren't everything, though. It wasn't long before Ginny spotted the numerous books, quills, and parchments scattered throughout the room, as well as the massive thing in the corner Ginny was told was a computer (a kind of Muggle tool used for research and getting information quickly). It was situated on a large, antique mahogany desk and accompanied by an ornate, but comfortable, matching chair.

It was, without a doubt, the prettiest room Ginny had ever seen. Even Hogwarts and its Old-World charm had not appealed to Ginny in quite the same way this room did. Hermione's worries soon evaporated when Ginny declared the room, "Brilliant!"

Looking around, Ginny surveyed the bedroom and concluded that it was definitely Hermione - a mixture of sophistication, intelligence, and a dash of the unexpected. Ginny laughed to herself at the thought of what Ron's reaction to Hermione's bedroom might be if he were to see it. Maybe then he would open his eyes and see his best friend for the girl - _No, _Ginny mused silently,_ not girl… the young woman _- that she was.

_If only others could see that I'm growing up too… _she thought ruefully.

_I promised myself I wouldn't do that anymore, _she chided herself.

Ginny chuckled at the sight of Crookshanks, Hermione's cat. Crookshanks had taken up residence over the night in a squashy chair tucked in another corner of the room. He often claimed this chair as his own and tended to give anyone who dared even think of disturbing him the "evil-eye," as Ginny had dubbed it. He gave her a knowing look as if telling her he knew exactly who she was thinking about.

"Oh, shut up!" she whispered fondly.

At the sound of Ginny's voice Hermione stirred in the bed across from her. "What?" she asked in a confused, sleepy voice. She sat up rubbing her eyes, stretching, and yawning loudly, her brown bushy hair wild as ever.

"Nothing," she said innocently. Attempting to shift the attention off herself and her unwanted thoughts of Harry, she said, "I think your Mum's cooking breakfast," Ginny told her instead of answering her question. "Maybe we'd better get up."

Hermione nodded affirmatively, sighed, and left the comforts of her own bed. "That does smell good," she agreed.

Mrs. Granger was, at the moment, cooking up a proper English breakfast to sustain them on their latest jaunt out into the community. This week, in honour of Ginny's visit, the Grangers had thought it a wonderful opportunity to take time off from work at the dental clinic and show the two girls a good time, properly. They had arranged for several outings to various museums, fine restaurants, and theatres.

Ginny had very few proper Muggle clothes and Hermione had grown out of most of the things they had bought her last summer so today Mrs. Granger was taking them shopping. This was not entirely unselfish of her, as she and her husband had a very important function that evening with some business associates and she needed a new dress.

The Grangers had immediately taken a liking to the youngest Weasley. Hermione did not, as a rule, have many female friends and this friendship pleased them greatly. It was nice to see their serious sixteen-year-old acting her age, giggling, and talking about clothes and boys. Ginny had a keen sense of humour and she brought out a side of their daughter they had rarely seen.

When Hermione had broached the subject of having a fellow Witch come and stay over the summer they were more than willing to agree. For some time now they had wanted to become more involved in their daughter's life. Over the years Mrs. Granger, in particular, had felt Hermione growing apart from them ever so subtly, confiding in them less and volunteering less and less information.

She _was_ growing up, there was no doubt about that - but there was more to it, they felt sure. Hermione was strangely quiet with regard to events this past year and - come to think of it - the year before, as well. The Grangers were aware that Hermione's close friend, Harry Potter, had lost his Godfather a few weeks ago. She had explained to them before that he was an orphan being raised by horrid non-magic relatives. The man, Sirius, had apparently been the boy's only link to his long-dead parents. It was clear that both girls were very worried about the serious, black-haired youth with the strange lightning bolt scar they had met on occasion at the train station and in Diagon Alley.

_Yes, but it seems more than that… _Mrs. Granger mused, as she stirred the bacon.

Hermione was not forthcoming with answers and could not be persuaded to give more details on the subject. In fact, she was rather vague about many things lately dealing with the Wizarding world which was very puzzling, considering how much she had talked about all the new things she was learning her first three years at Hogwarts. Having Ginny Weasley come was just the thing they needed in order to glean some information about what, exactly, was going on with their clever daughter.

Thus far, Ginny's trip had not yielded much useful information. Ginny was also close-mouthed about last school term. The little information they had got out of the girls concerned a certain teacher and interim Headmistress whom Ginny and Hermione had absolutely despised, owing to the fact that she was horrid and a terrible teacher to boot. They had also found out, quite by accident, that Hermione and Ginny's brother, Ron, had spent some time in the hospital wing at the end of term following a nasty accident - the circumstances all, again, being vague and dodgy.

Frustrating as it was to be so out of tune with one's only offspring, Mrs. Granger had to admit that having Hermione home these past few weeks had been very enjoyable, especially since she had spent most of the past year away, including much of last summer and Christmas holiday.

The first few weeks of summer holiday were spent catching up and getting in a routine. With Ginny's visit, the Grangers all seemed more at ease and they could see the tension begin to leave the faces of the two girls over the course of the week. Mrs. Granger had reasoned that Hermione had been under a great deal of stress about her exams… extremely important exams, she had been told. But Ginny was a year younger and had not had to deal with those particular exams, yet she looked just as haggard and worried as her daughter.

As she silently pondered all this, Mr. Granger took that moment to make his appearance in the kitchen. He was a handsome man in his early forties with brown hair that would be bushy if he let it grow. His hair was sprinkled with grey and his hazel eyes were adorned with stylish spectacles that emphasised his intelligent appearance.

Hermione was a strange mixture of her parents. Mr. Granger had a love for books that was only surpassed by his daughter. Unlike Hermione, however, he was very laid-back. It was Mrs. Granger, with her perfect chestnut hair, perfectly pressed clothes, and deep brown eyes, who could easily be called a Type-A personality. She always needed, even in her youth, to be the best at everything. It was she who had passed the curse of over-achievement on to her daughter.

"Morning, love," he said pleasantly. "Breakfast smells divine!"

"Sit down, sit down," his wife said, smiling. "It's almost finished. I was just going to call you and the girls... Oh, here they are now!" she exclaimed, hearing the two teenagers make their way down the stairs.

"Morning, Mum," Hermione said, kissing her mother's cheek, "morning, Dad," she said, moving across the kitchen to kiss her father on the cheek as well.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," Ginny said politely, seating herself at the table.

Ginny looked at Mrs. Granger with a mixture of envy and respect. At first, she had been shy around Hermione's sophisticated and stylish mother, but she soon warmed up once she realised how open and sincere Mrs. Granger was. Mr. Granger, on the other hand was very relaxed and jovial, a combination that Ginny was used to in her family.

"Good morning, girls," they both greeted them pleasantly.

"Are you up for a day of shopping and pampering girls?" Mrs. Granger asked them. "You're dad and I are going out for the evening, Hermione. I need a new dress and I've made an appointment for the three of us at the salon this morning."

"Er," Hermione stalled, sounding very much like Harry and causing Ginny to giggle. She grumpily pulled a face, making it clear that this latest idea of her mother's was not her favourite.

"I'd rather go with Dad to the bookshop today," she said, looking hopefully at her father. "There's a new book out on chemistry theorems that I was hoping to pick up this summer. You know, potions and chemistry are very much related and if you…." but her voice trailed off as she caught the disappointed look that passed between Ginny and her mother. She knew that Ginny did not have many opportunities to pamper herself - much less experience the joys of Muggle beauty secrets compliments of her mother.

"Oh, all right," she conceded, sighing. "What time are we leaving?" she asked.

"Around nine, as soon as we have a proper breakfast," her mother said, visibly brightening.

Hermione shot her father an exasperated look. He reached over to pat her hand. "Don't worry," he said sympathetically. "I'll see what I can do about that book. I think I know just the one you mean."

Hermione smiled gratefully at her Dad as she bit into a slice of toast. He always knew just what to say to make her feel better.

Around three o'clock in the afternoon the females of the house returned, looking vastly different than when they had left. Hermione's hair was, if not exactly straight, better-behaved. Ginny's long locks had been transformed so that they fell in soft waves, framing her face in a complimentary way. Both girls had well-groomed nails - tastefully done - and had been treated to a pedicure as well. The final touch was the makeup.

Neither girl was wild about the idea of make-up. Hermione rarely bothered and Ginny had no experience with the application of Muggle concealment charms. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the make-up consultant had performed magic on her. Her freckles, a curse of the Weasley family for generations, magically disappeared when covered with something called foundation - a creamy, skin-coloured substance applied to the face. After a light dusting of powder, some eyeliner, mascara, blush, a neutral shade of eye-shadow, and a soft pink lipstick applied to her lips, Ginny hardly recognised the woman staring out at her from the silent Muggle mirror. Ginny was sure that, had she been home, her mirror would have a definite compliment or two for her. Even her six brothers would have to see now that she was no longer a little girl. She was a young woman, with the curves to prove it!

Likewise, Hermione was pleased with the outcome of her make-over. Her mother had insisted on a hair-relaxant, and Hermione had to admit the effect was becoming. She still had a very full head of hair, but the relaxant had helped smooth it out and make it more manageable. Hermione had used something similar prior to the Yule Ball fourth year, but that was a potion and good for only one day. This treatment was supposed to be somewhat permanent and was guaranteed to last several months. Hermione snorted softly as she too appraised herself in the mirror. She'd give it about a month before the bushiness took over once again! Hermione was equally as pleased with her makeup but knew, much to her mother's disappointment, that it was temporary. She would not bother with it tomorrow.

_Still, it's nice to look so grown-up, _she mused. _If only Ron could see… Maybe I'll have Dad take a picture of the two of us and send it to him…_

Out loud, she said to her red-headed friend, "My mum can go over-board, sometimes. Still… she means well. Not bad, though, huh?"

"I think it's brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed, shaking her head of curls and grinning from ear to ear. At times like these Hermione was strongly reminded of just who her friend was related to and how much she missed him.

"I wonder what Ron is getting up to without you around this week," she said, betraying her thoughts.

Ginny smiled the same knowing smile that Hermione had given her early that morning. "We could owl him and ask…" she offered.

Hermione's mother and father had purchased a family owl on their last trip to Diagon Alley in order to keep in touch better with their daughter. Owls were the preferred method of communication in the Wizarding world and Hermione always had access to school owls, Hedwig, or Pigwidgeon. But if they ever wanted to get in touch with her, her parents were at a disadvantage. Muggle post was not delivered daily to the school. Instead, it was sent to an address near the school where it was picked up at specific intervals by a witch or wizard employed with the Wizarding postal service. Several times a month it was gathered and delivered to the school, sometimes by owl and sometimes by Floo.

Thus, Harvey, a brown barn owl had entered the service of their family, making post much more convenient and quicker. Mrs. Granger was not especially fond of the bird, as he liked to bring his nightly hunt into the kitchen and plonk himself down on the nearest perch to devour it. Harvey could, however, carry a letter to Hogwarts in a day or two while the Muggle method took at least a fortnight to reach her. The efficiency of owl post pleased Mrs. Granger greatly and made Harvey's presence in the house more tolerable. Mr. Granger, on the other hand, was very fond of the owl and they had become great friends.

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I sent Harvey off to Diagon Alley with an order for Harry's birthday. He's not back yet."

"Yes," Ginny said carefully in what she hoped was a casual, non-concerned voice. "Harry's birthday… It's at the end of July, isn't it?"

Hermione laughed. "You know very well, Ginny Weasley, that Harry's birthday is the 31st of July!" she said, putting her hands on her hips and giving her a shrewd look.

Ginny plopped down on the bed. "Wonder how he's doing…" Harry was never far from her thoughts. Ginny may have given up on him ages ago and moved on, but she found it difficult not to think of him. She rarely mentioned him anymore, though, unless the topic was brought up by someone else. Hermione had avoided it thus far in an effort to bring normalcy to the week.

"I wish I knew," Hermione said, sighing. She sat down on the edge of her bed, opposite Ginny. "I got a letter from him last week. Just a quick response to a two page letter I sent him. Here, I'll show it to you." She got up and crossed the bedroom quickly, pulling a short piece of parchment from the drawer of the mahogany desk.

Handing it to Ginny, Hermione's voice was laced with a hint of disgust mixed with fondness. "Doesn't say much, but it's typical Harry and if you read between the lines it's easy to see how he's doing."

Ginny looked at the parchment. In Harry's messy scrawl, the note read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thanks for the letter. It's nice to know that your summer is going so well. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. The Dursleys are the same as ever. Looking forward to the end of summer. I'll write more soon._

_Love,_ _Harry_

"Ginny, I'm really worried about him," Hermione said anxiously.

Ginny snorted loudly. "Yeah, typical Harry," she agreed. "'I'm fine. Don't concern yourself about me. My life is falling apart and I'm with people who could care less - but I hope you're doing well…,'" she paraphrased sarcastically. "Ron got something similar last week as well. He didn't show it to me but I sneaked into his room when he was washing up after dinner and read it."

"I don't know why you'd need to go to all that trouble," Hermione said reasonably. "I don't think Ron would mind sharing it. It's not like there's anything personal in Harry's letters," she said, grinning. "I've known him for five years and not once has he written anything personal to me. Unless you count 'Dudley is a stupid git' personal."

Ginny smiled. Yep, that sounded like Harry, but she wouldn't change him for the world. "I know…" Ginny said thoughtfully. "I guess I just didn't want to draw attention to the fact that I even _wanted_ to know what Harry had to say. You remember what a prat Ron was after I broke it off with Michael. Honestly, I think he _wants_ me to get together with Harry. I don't know why, though. It's not like Harry even thinks of me at all, and if he does it's as Ron's _little_ sister. I might as well be invisible for all he cares!" she said with exasperation.

"Maybe if Harry saw you looking like this he might think about you in a different way…" Hermione said slyly, indicating the recent makeover and the new clothes.

"I do look damn good," Ginny admitted. "And maybe if Ron saw _you_ looking like this, he would open his stupid, bloody eyes and see you for the _girl_ that you are," she shot back wickedly.

"One can only hope for miracles," Hermione said, sighing.

At that moment, Pigwidgeon, Ron's tiny owl, came zooming in excitedly through the open window towards Hermione. "Pig!" Ginny exclaimed. "Speaking of my bloody stupid brother, it looks as if you have a letter," Ginny laughed. "Talk about timing!"

Hermione laughed along with her, moving quickly to catch the over-excited owl and retrieve the letter. Ginny watched her open it and read. Suddenly her face went pale. "Ginny," she said quietly. "Harry's in trouble…."

**A/N: **Thanks, Arnel, for your comments and encouragement. You're a wonderful beta and I appreciate you taking the time to read through my stuff! Next chapter: Ron's perspective. Just what was in that letter, anyway?


	5. Ron

**Chapter Five**

"**Ron"**

Ron Weasley had spent the past week moping around the house. He couldn't understand how Ginny could leave him on his own for a whole week. Ron had not spent this much time alone since… well… never! The Burrow had rarely felt so lonely. And it certainly had never been this quiet before - at least in Ron's experience. The stillness was driving him mad.

His temper boiling over with the oppressive July heat, he silently cursed Ginny for leaving. While he was at it, he also cursed stupid Muggle Studies and Hermione for offering to help.

That thought stopped him cold, and an image of his best friend's still, lifeless face flashed before his eyes. _'No… Not Hermione. Never Hermione…'_

Hermione Granger had been the bane of Ron's existence since their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express five years before. Know-It-All Hermione Granger with perfect marks, flawless wand skills, an enormous intelligence, beautiful brown eyes… soft, fluffy hair that smelled of flowers… the way she smiled at him from across the Gryffindor table at breakfast…

Ron smacked his hand hard on the table. What was it with him lately? Since leaving her at King's Cross three weeks ago, Ron had barely been able to think of anything else. He didn't even like Hermione in that way… _did_ _he_?

Last year Hermione and Ron had both been made Prefects. Ron still had not got over the shock of that one, but he supposed Dumbledore had his reasons. He had to admit he had been flattered by the prestige of the position (and excited about the new broom his Mum had bought him), but he found it much more work than he had anticipated. Hermione had kept him in line, though - making sure that Ron always remembered the weekly meetings and goading him into performing his obligations. Hermione was good at responsibility…

There he went again! Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione! Why couldn't she just bloody well leave him alone! Even in his thoughts, she was tormenting him!

In exasperation, Ron pulled out parchment and quill. If he couldn't get her out of his mind then he'd just have to take matters in his own hand and write her a letter. That'd show _her_! She wasn't the only one who could write a bloody good letter! Maybe after writing this he could finally stop thinking about her….

Ron first wrote about the weather, then Harry, his family, and O.W.L.s. Soon, however, he ran out of things to say. With a sudden burst of inspiration, he inquired about Ginny. Yeah… his sister was a safe topic!

Two lines later, he found himself stuck again. Scratching his head caused him to catch sight of the faint scars left after the brain attack in the Department of Mysteries. Seeing the scars reminded Ron of things he would rather forget. _Death Eaters… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… Sirius… Harry… Hermione lying hurt, possibly dying… What would he have done if he had lost her? _

Ron shuddered. _Some scars may not be visible but would remain forever._

Not for the first time, he marvelled at Harry's ability to shoulder so much burden and responsibility. Harry had lost more and lived through more than Ron could even fathom - yet he still went on, living each day as normally as possible. Sure, he cracked every once in a while, but who could blame him? Having come so close to losing… someone… he could not even imagine the grief that Harry was going through. Sirius had been like a father to Harry and now he was gone.

Ron was startled out of his revelry by two loud _'pops'_. The twins had just Apparated into the kitchen of the Burrow and were smirking at him with identical irritating expressions.

"Well, hello there, youngest brother!" George exclaimed robustly.

"Oi, Ronald!" Fred piped in. "Doing some serious thinking it appears. Don't strain yourself… The brain is a delicate thing - unless of course it's wrapped around a human body! 'Course you know all about that, don't you, little bro?" he added sarcastically.

"Shut it, you two," Ron said good-naturedly. Ron didn't really mind the teasing. He was proud of the part he had played in exposing the Wizarding world to the return of You-Know-Who.

"What are you two doing home this time of day?" he asked curiously.

"Working on our new invention," Fred said. "Lee is minding the store. We made him a junior partner, you know."

"In fact, we've just finished working out most of the kinks on this new item. It's a game, typically used at parties - purely for entertainment purposes. Still not perfect, though… We have to find some test subjects to try it out on. Interested?" George asked.

"Umm… no," he said hesitantly.

"Don't you even want to know what it is?" Fred asked with a fake hurt expression.

"I've had more than enough experience being your test subject lately," he answered. "That engorging spider trick was just _not_ funny," he said with a grimace.

"Matter of perspective," Fred reasoned matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," George agreed. "_We _thought it was hilarious. The look on your face! Wish I had a camera so that we could send it to dear Hermione!"

"Yeah, well…" Ron said, flushing and moving a hand over the parchment to cover it from view. He did not need to be teased about writing to Hermione. Fred and George had been getting more and more obnoxious ever since they quit school and opened their joke shop. "I'm still not interested," he said more firmly.

"Suit yourself," George shrugged.

"What's that you've got there, little bro? A letter to your lovely lady?" Fred asked wickedly, moving to take a closer look.

"No!" he exclaimed a little too quickly, jumping slightly and sending the parchment flying onto the floor. Ron made to grab it, but George was too fast.

Smiling widely - a toothy, sinister smirk - he began to read out loud in a devilish voice:

"_Dear Hermione,_

_Hope the heat is not bothering you too badly. It's bloody hot here…"_

"Oooh Ronnie!" Fred exclaimed in a fake falsetto voice. "You're _so_ hot!" he teased.

"Stupid gits! Give it here," Ron said angrily, grabbing the letter out of George's hand. His face was red, both from embarrassment and anger. Nobody pushed his buttons like the twins. "I just wanted to see how she and Ginny were getting on…" he explained feebly.

"Sure, sure you were," Fred said, patting his shoulder condescendingly as if he were speaking to a simpleton toddler.

"Look," Ron said in a warning voice. "I'm not discussing this with you! I don't like Hermione in that way. We're friends. There's nothing going on, and… I don't want to talk about it!" he finally yelled in frustration.

"Well, George," Fred said to his twin. "I have to say I do believe Ickle Ronnikins when he says there's nothing going on…"

"I have to agree with you Fred," said George, crossing his arms. "As for the rest… well, our young brother is a bit thick, so maybe he really believes it."

"Tell you what Ron," Fred said, putting his arm around his brother's shoulders. "We won't say anything more about this _if_…."

"If what?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"…_if _you agree to test our new game," Fred finished.

"Do I _have _to?" Ron complained in a whiny voice, his face a picture of dread.

"Unless you want us to keep up this line of questioning," George said slyly. "You know, it could be a long summer…"

"Oh, all right," he said, exasperated. "What do I have to do?" He felt like a lamb being led to slaughter.

"Well—" Fred began excitedly.

He was interrupted by a loud _'pop'_ outside the Burrow. Three red-heads swung around as one, pulling their wands out and moving stealthily towards the door, peeking through the window, trying to determine what or who had made the noise. With the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, nobody in the Wizarding world was taking any chances, least of all the Weasley family who were already very active in the Order, and well known to be associated with Harry Potter.

"Who's there!" George yelled.

"Show yourself!" Fred warned. "We're armed, and I wouldn't mess with us!"

"Who'd be crazy enough to?" a female voice laughed. Tonks appeared from nowhere, underneath the cover of an invisibility cloak. "Sorry if I scared you lads," she said sheepishly. "I forgot to take my cloak off before I Disapparated."

"Tonks! Come in, come in," George said eagerly. Nymphadora Tonks was one of their favourite people from the Order of the Phoenix. "Love the get-up!" he exclaimed, motioning towards her wild hair, body piercings, and clothing.

"Tonks special," she chuckled, indicating her attire.

"How's guard duty treating you?" Fred asked, sheathing his wand. The others likewise did the same. All four moved into the kitchen and sat down around the Weasley dinner table.

"Fine, thanks. Actually, that's what I came to talk about…" she said uncertainly.

"Everything all right with Harry?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Not really," she began slowly. "From the little I've talked with him, and from what I've seen when he doesn't know anyone is watching, I'd say he's far from fine."

"How so?" Ron asked, concerned.

"Well… he's _really_ moody for one thing…" she said.

"That's nothing new," Fred scoffed.

"Yeah," George agreed, "Harry's never been all sunshine and daisies - especially since… well, you know… since _He_ came back."

"And this thing with Sirius… Harry's taking it really hard," Ron added.

"Who wouldn't?" she said sadly. "We're all taking it badly."

"Yeah, but with Harry it's different. He's never exactly had a good family life and Sirius was the closest thing to a father that he ever had. He was really beginning to rely on Sirius - even risked expulsion last year by breaking into Umbridge's office just so he could talk to him," Ron explained. "Harry doesn't trust people easily…" he trailed off. As Harry's best mate, he didn't want to say too much. He knew how Harry guarded his feelings and rarely confided in anyone apart from Hermione and him. Even then, Ron got the feeling that lately Harry was holding something back… something he didn't want to talk about yet.

"That's another thing," Tonks said, interrupting Ron's thoughts. "Did you know that the Dursleys are out of town?" she asked.

"No," Ron answered, surprised.

"Yeah, they are. Left this morning, only they left Harry's ogre cousin behind to keep an eye on him," she informed them. "I wanted to tell Dumbledore, but Harry absolutely refused. Says he doesn't want to bother him…."

"That sounds familiar," Ron mused. "He said stuff like that last year. I wanted him to go to Dumbledore when his scar hurt but Harry flat-out refused. Something's up with those two, I'd lay odds on it. Harry used to really idolise Dumbledore but lately he's been… well… _indifferent_ towards him."

He paused, as if a thought had suddenly just hit him. "Come to think of it, it kind of goes both ways. Dumbledore hasn't exactly been there for Harry either lately. I dunno… maybe Harry feels like Dumbledore doesn't care about him," Ron shrugged.

He had never really thought about it before, but Dumbledore _hadn't_ been there for Harry much last year. Ron knew that Dumbledore was busy with the Order of the Phoenix and all that Umbridge business. But Harry had implied several times that Dumbledore was acting strangely, and that he even refused to look at him directly on the occasions last year when they had come into contact. Ron had just passed it off as the actions of an important man, with more important things to do than pay attention to a teenager. If he put himself in Harry's shoes, however, he could see how Dumbledore's indifference might hurt Harry.

"I said as much to him. He admitted that he knew Dumbledore cares. Don't know if I believe him though…" she said anxiously. "Then there's this business with Dudley…"

"What business with Dudley?" George asked, speaking up.

"Well, Dudley is a bit of a bully," Tonks said.

"Harry's always saying what a stupid bloody plonker he is…" Ron said distastefully.

"Yeah, well… I overheard him and Harry talking out in the garden. Dudley was taunting him, but Harry was holding his own. Then they sort of made a deal," she explained.

"What kind of deal?" Fred asked.

"Basically, they called a truce to their mutual hatred of each other. Harry's even hanging out with Dudley and his friends tonight," she told them.

"What!" Ron exclaimed. "That's ludicrous! I can't believe that Harry'd make a deal like that. How many times has he told me what a lying, bullying prat his cousin is and how Dudley would do anything to get him in trouble?"

"That's just it," she explained. "I think that Dudley's intention _is _to get Harry in trouble - or at least do something to really embarrass him. I heard Dudley talking to his other bully friends on the porch while Harry was inside and none of it sounded good.

"Harry may be in real trouble, and with his emotional state the way it is..." she sighed. "Well… I'm afraid Harry might lose it and get himself into trouble with the Ministry again. Fudge is looking for any opportunity to discredit him, even through everyone knows now that he and Dumbledore were telling the truth all along. Any sort of magic at Privet Drive - accidental or not - will not go unnoticed, especially with a houseful of Muggles around. I'd go to Dumbledore and ask to get him out of there, but Harry might see that as a betrayal. He's already withdrawn as it is, and I don't want to push him away further."

"Yes," Ron agreed. "Harry likes to handle things on his own. Getting Dumbledore involved probably isn't such a good idea. But there must be something we can do…"

"If only Sirius were here," Tonks said, wringing her hands. "He'd know what to do."

She was startled out of her reverie by the twins, who stood abruptly as a unit.

"Weasley brothers," Fred said looking at Ron and George, puffing out his chest like a politician about to make a speech. "I think it's up to us to do something about this situation."

"Yes, my brother," George chimed in, like he knew exactly what Fred had in mind. "I think you're quite right. Our business partner needs us."

"But how are we supposed to get there?" Ron asked. "I can't Apparate, and you can forget leaving me behind," he warned. "Harry may be your investor but he's _my_ best mate. It's not as if we can fly the car this time."

"If you hadn't lost the car, Ronald-" Fred reminded him.

But Ron wasn't listening. "And what are we going to do anyway?" he said out loud to no one in particular, feeling very much like Hermione's voice of reason. _Why did that girl affect him so?_ He pushed those thoughts aside as he said plainly, "We can't use magic there. You heard Tonks." He sent his brother's a stern glare.

"We wouldn't have to," George said. "Just the sight of us'll scare the pants off the big oaf. He needs a reminder of who he's messing with, right Fred?"

"Yeah," Fred added forcefully. "No one messes with the Weasley brothers! And Harry may not have red hair, but he's as good as a Weasley. _He_ wouldn't let _us_ down."

"We'll have to wait for dark. I'll get the brooms," Ron said, determined.

"No, wait!" Tonks interjected, stopping him before he went to retrieve the brooms from the shed. "I have a better idea," she said smiling. "You can Floo."

"No, no, that's no good," Ron said, shaking his head. "We tried that once and it was a disaster! Besides, the Dursleys aren't even connected to the Floo network. Dad made special arrangements just for that one day."

"I'm not talking about the Dursleys' fireplace," she clarified. "The Order has an operative who lives close by. Her name is Arabella Figg, or Figgy for short. I've already spoken to her and she's agreed to let you use her fireplace, if need be. She has a soft spot for Harry… used to be his babysitter, you know."

"That's settled then," Fred said like a general leading his troops. "Let's go!"

Suddenly aware of the letter he had clutched in his hand, Ron paused before dashing off. His mind was a blur, but he knew he might not be back for awhile and he wanted to make sure Hermione knew where to find him.

"Just let me finish this letter and send it out," Ron told them.

"We'll pack a few things and meet you back here in ten minutes," George said, grabbing Fred's arm and pulling him upstairs to their room.

"I'll call your mother and let her know what's going on and where you'll be," Tonks said, moving towards the fireplace.

Quickly Ron picked up his Quill and scribbled three final lines at the bottom of the crumpled note. '_Tonks just arrived here at the Burrow. Seems Harry's in trouble so Fred, George, and I are going over there to sort it out. I'll write more later and explain. Got to go. Ron'_

'_Yeah,'_ he thought, _'that should do it.'_ He folded the parchment and hurried up to his room to send Pig off to Hermione's with the letter, pleased with himself for keeping her informed. He'd write her with the details later, once he knew more.


	6. Dudley's Idea of Fun

**Chapter Six**

"**Dudley's Idea of Fun"**

Harry shuffled into the living room worriedly, his hands in his pockets. He really was glad that he had people here on his side - people who did not want to bash his head in, that is to say. However, he knew the mayhem the twins could cause and he felt he had good reason for concern. He shuddered at the memory of the Ton-Tongue Toffee.

Fred and George did not seem to be the least concerned for Harry's plight, though. They were busy introducing themselves to Dudley's shell-shocked friends. Being two years older and so obviously outgoing, it appeared to Harry that the group in the living room did not quite know what to make of the identical troublemakers.

"So," he heard Piers ask hesitantly, "how do you know Harry?"

George said casually, "We went to school with him, of course."

"And we used to play—" Fred started to say but was cut off abruptly by Ron who, startled that Fred was about to say 'Quidditch,' deliberately stepped on his foot in passing.

"Ouch!" Fred yelped. "Ron, you big prat! Watch where you're walking with those big feet of yours!" he complained.

"He was about to say that we played on our house football team together," Harry interjected calmly, shooting Fred and George a menacing look.

"Yeah…" Fred said, catching on at last. "The _football_ team." He winked at Harry.

Dudley, not knowing in the least what they were on about but not particularly liking the conversation, tried to divert everyone's attention to the video player which had by now been properly hooked up. Piers, however, was not satisfied with the answer that the twins gave.

"So," he asked, "you go to St. Brutus's as well, then?"

"St. Brutus's?" George asked, perplexed.

Once again, Dudley frantically tried to gain his friends' attention. Harry sat back and waited, interested to see what would happen next. He was not in a hurry to correct this line of questioning. It had always bothered him that his aunt and uncle had told everyone that he was a hardened criminal who was locked up with other hardened criminals in the infamous school for most of the year.

"St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys," Piers clarified, sounding confused. "That's where Potter goes to school."

"_St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys_?" Fred scoffed. "You've got to be joking! Harry," Fred said, turning to face his friend, his face bright red, "what's this bloke on about? What do they think you are, some sort of criminal?"

"That's where the Dursleys having been telling everyone that I've been attending school," Harry explained, slightly embarrassed. He regretted letting the Weasleys know. What was the point, really? There was nothing they could do about it.

"But, that's insane, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, also beginning to get red with anger as comprehension dawned what they were talking about. "You mean to tell me that they've been telling people that you go to a school for criminals?"

"Yep," Harry shrugged. "Since my first year, I think."

"Why, didn't you tell us they were spreading around that load of rubbish?" he asked through clenched teeth, moving his hand to his wand. Harry saw his gaze fall on Dudley who had seen it too. His fat cousin stumbled backward a step of two under Ron's murderous glare. He had not missed the subtle hand movement either, as far as Harry could tell.

"That's all right, Ron," Harry said evenly, stepping in front of Ron and laying a hand on his chest to stop him from hexing Dudley. "It was Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia that started the rumour. Dudley was just saying what they told him to, weren't you, Dud?" He had to work very hard to make this appear casual. The last thing he needed was for one of his friends to do magic and have it come back on him, as he _was _the only wizard supposedly living in this area. After all that mess last year… Besides, Ron was underage too, and Harry didn't want him to get in trouble on his account.

"So if you don't go to St. Brutus's, then where _do_ you go to school, Potter?" Piers asked suspiciously, obviously not liking the fact that Dudley had lied to them or that Harry was not, in fact, a criminal.

Harry shrugged. "I go to a boarding school up North. The same one my parents attended. I guess the Dursleys just don't like the fact that I attend a better school than Dudley." Harry glared at Dudley, daring the larger boy to contradict him.

"But you're poor!" Piers exclaimed. "And I know for a fact Mr. and Mrs. Dursley would never…" He did not finishing his statement. They all knew what he meant.

Harry flushed. "My parents left a trust when they died that pays for my education," he said stiffly. He had never discussed his financial situation with the Dursleys. They had never asked, and he didn't feel the need to tell them.

Gordon interrupted suddenly, gesturing to the four of them stupidly. "So, you all go to a boarding school up North?" Harry supposed he was trying to make sense of this new information.

"Yes, that's right," Ron said more calmly, almost daring them to say anything more about it.

"Well, technically, Fred and I don't anymore," George added. "We _almost_ finished our seventh year, but decided to move on to bigger and better things."

"Yeah, we own our own joke shop in… err… London."

"Really?" Malcolm said, seemingly impressed.

"Weasley's… Er… _Wonderful_ Wheezes," George said, stumbling over his words.

"That's right," Fred added, grinning maliciously. "We specialise in all kinds of jokes and tricks that we invent ourselves. Some might even call them _magic_ tricks." He shot Dudley a dirty look.

"Yeah," George jumped in. "Just ask old Dudders here about our gag, Ton-Tongue Toffee. Makes your tongue… uhh… _feel_ as if it weighs a ton! He ate a piece a few years ago by mistake." Harry glanced over at Dudley, who looked positively green.

"Wow!" Dennis said in his typical lisp. "I bet you had to be really good at chemistry to invent something like that!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah," George said smoothly. "_Really_ good at chemelstry."

The four Muggles gave the wizards in the room odd looks, like they weren't quite sure if the twins were having them on or not, but Dudley looked as if he were ready to explode. "Shall I start the video?" he asked uncomfortably, plainly wanting this interrogation to end before any more family secrets were let out of the bag.

Everyone agreed and took places around the living room wherever there were spots available. With the addition of three more people, Harry and Ron ended up on the floor, but the twins made themselves at home on either side of Dudley on the sofa. Harry found it hard not to laugh at Dudley's horrified expression at being situated between the Weasley brothers. Everyone grabbed handfuls of the snack food that had been put out on the coffee table, as well as a cold can of beer.

"Right then," Piers said, pushing the remote, "here we go."

Harry noticed Ron jump when the telly burst to life and began playing the movie. Being from a Wizarding family, Ron had no experience with television or other Muggle devices. "I thought Muggles didn't know how to use magic," he whispered to Harry out of the corner of his mouth.

"They don't," Harry whispered back, smiling. "Don't worry, I'll explain later."

Harry soon realised what all the fuss had been about. The main character was an extremely voluptuous woman by the name of Lucinda Lovelace. Harry tried hard to get the image of Luna Lovegood in her silly lion hat out of his head at the sound of Lucinda's name. The Muggle boys all hooted and clapped upon seeing the title. Apparently, she was the main character in a series of movies. In this adventure, _Lucinda Lovelace Does School_, Lucinda first appeared as Linda Landers, a prim and proper school governess with a Professor McGonagall-like attitude. Behind closed doors, however, she became Lucinda Lovelace, sex-addict who proceeded to do some _very_ naughty things with… well… just about everybody.

Harry and Ron - thankfully on the floor and off to the side and with their backs to everyone - were the only ones not hooting and cat-calling to the screen. Fred and George, in particular, seemed _very_ much taken with Lucinda and her antics and were the loudest of the lot.

At one point in the movie Harry sneaked a glance at Ron, who appeared to be as red as his Weasley hair. Harry knew his own eyes were wide as saucers, and he also felt his face heat up during the more explicit scenes. He had no idea people actually did those kinds of things to each other.

Thinking of his one pitiful attempt at kissing, Harry became even more embarrassed. What if he was _supposed _to have kissed Cho like that? If so, no wonder she had bawled all over him! Maybe Hermione was wrong and it _was_ his fault after all…. Harry suddenly felt very unsure and insecure. He did feel slightly better, though, when he took another glance at Ron and found him looking just as shocked and embarrassed, if not more.

At the movie's conclusion, Dudley stood and stretched regally. "Well, lads," he said lazily. "That was the best one yet! Good show, Malcolm! I'll have to remember to thank your dad." Turning to Harry, he asked in a sneering voice, "So Potter, enjoy the movie?"

"Umm…" Harry's voice cracked, "sure…" Then, more confidently, he looked Dudley in the eye and with his best poker face lied, "Yes, I liked it very much."

Ron's eyes popped, but he kept quiet. Dudley didn't know how to respond at first. Then he took the typical Dudley route. He smiled condescendingly and said, "Come off it, _cousin_. You and I both know that no girl has ever touched you like that." He laughed smugly as Harry's face paled.

"Like you have," Harry scoffed. He was certain no girl - certainly not a pretty one - had ever looked twice at Dudley's porky frame.

Dudley snorted, "So you admit it then? Look, lads…" he taunted, shooting Ron and Harry disgusted looks. "…we have a couple of ickle virgins here! Told you, Potter, that you and your friends were nothing but namby-"

"Hold on, now," Fred warned.

"-pamby nancy boys," Dudley finished, ignoring Fred completely.

"There's no need for name calling here Dursley," George threatened.

Dudley didn't seem to hear the twins. He continued to glare at his cousin for a full minute, his mouth tight and grim. A tense silence enveloped the room. Harry glared back, silently challenging Dudley to take it one step further.

Dudley seemed to shake himself back into reality. He turned to his four friends abruptly, who were looking as if they were just waiting for permission from Dudley to pounce on the three Weasleys and Harry. "Right," he said, clapping his hands. "Well, lads… you know what time it is now, correct?"

"Time to break out the hard stuff," Piers answered with great anticipation in his squeaky little voice.

"Just what do you mean by 'the hard stuff'," Ron asked warily, his eyes still cold with fury.

"Lager, gin, vodka…" Dudley said casually, ignoring Ron's menacing stare. "Among others…."

He flinched when Fred and George exclaimed raucously, "Now you're talking!"

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Dudley said, sounding anything but sorry. "I'm not sure if there's enough to go around. After all, we weren't expecting guests," he told them, looking down his piggy nose at the three Weasley brothers.

"No problem," Fred said easily.

For a moment it looked as if Dudley had won this battle. Fred and George had other ideas, though. "Not a problem. We'll just pop down to the corner store and get our own," Fred said, gesturing towards the door. They exchanged knowing grins, making Harry wondered what they were up to now.

As the twins turned to leave, they were interrupted by the _ding_ of the doorbell. "What time is it?" Dudley asked Piers.

"Going on four o'clock," Piers answered, checking his wristwatch and smiling.

"Great, they're right on time," Dudley exclaimed, shoving past Harry and the twins. "Out of my way, Potter!"

Harry stumbled and would have fallen if it weren't for Ron standing right behind him. He watched as Dudley opened the door to reveal five girls, three of whom looked vaguely familiar to Harry. The other two girls were complete strangers. All five were very pretty. They appeared to be about Dudley's age, and were dressed provocatively in the fashion of modern Muggle teenage girls with tight shirts that accentuated certain… aspects of their upper bodies. Harry heard Fred and George both suck in air sharply at the sight of them.

Two of the girls were identical twins, who - Harry just remembered - had been in one of his primary school classes at the school he and Dudley had attended before Harry went to Hogwarts and Dudley went to Smeltings. _Andrea and Audra… Thompson?_

The other girl Harry definitely recognized. Claire Smith was difficult to forget, given that she had been the female version of Dudley at his old school. Claire was very pretty even at ten - but at sixteen she was gorgeous. She had long blond hair and pale blue eyes and reminded Harry somewhat of a mixture between Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Like Dudley, Claire had been well known to bully anyone that was different, poor, or who slighted her in some way. Harry fit every category and, thus, had been one of her favourite targets.

He had not seen the three girls since the end of term when he was ten years old. Idly, he wondered if they went to Stonewall High, the public school where he would have gone had he not gotten his Hogwarts letter. Although Piers and Dudley both went to Smeltings, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon did not have the grades, money, or family connections to be accepted into the better school and that's where they attended. He remembered Dudley and Piers laughing about it long ago.

Dudley smiled and greeted the girls warmly. Harry had never seen him so amiable towards anyone before and was slightly disconcerted by it. Dudley quickly invited them in, then looked around nervously before shutting the door. Harry supposed this was to see if any nosy neighbours were about to notice the addition of the females to the house. He was sure that Aunt Petunia would not approve of mixed company when there were no adults present.

Claire smiled widely at the boys and then caught sight of Harry and the Weasleys. "New friends Duddy?" she asked, eyeing the four boys with open appreciation. Harry was flabbergasted. Didn't she remember him?

Dudley must have thought the same thing for he said sourly, "You remember my cousin, Harry Potter." Harry noticed that Dudley said his name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. It was very obvious he did not like the attention that the wizards were receiving from the girls. "And these are his loser friends, the Wellsleys."

Claire did a double-take. "Skinny _little_ Harry Potter with the ill-fitting clothes and smart mouth? Your cousin, the one you hate?"

"That's him, unfortunately," Dudley grumbled his voice low and gravely.

"My, my," she tutted appreciatively. "You have grown up, haven't you? And quite _well_, I might add…."

Harry attempted to say something that came out sounding somewhat like "Er..um.. thanks". Claire was checking him out rather openly, and it made him feel very uncomfortable. He did not like being the centre of attention, even from a girl as pretty as Claire. Besides, Harry could still sense Claire's true nature lurking under the surface and he had been on the receiving end of her wrath too many times in his childhood to forget it.

Dudley did not like Harry being the centre of Claire's attention, either. He quickly stepped in between them, effectively blocking his cousin from view and putting himself in Claire's line of vision. "Claire, luv," he said charmingly, "why don't you and your friends come into the sitting room and I'll get you a nice, cold drink. How does that sound?"

"Duddy, I would absolutely _love_ a drink. Do you have any gin and tonic?" she asked sweetly, turning on her charm while still glancing around Dudley at Harry as if he were a very desirable dessert. Harry idly wondered if she had Veela blood in her ancestry the way that Dudley was acting towards her. She and the four girls, plus Piers and the others, all moved towards the living room leaving Fred, George, Ron, and Harry alone.

"Well, Harry," George grinned, slapping him on the back, "it looks as if you have yet another admirer."

"Guess you don't have to be a famous wizard to get attention around here," Fred agreed wickedly, elbowing him.

"Did you see the look on Dudley's face when she was checking you out? Priceless!" Ron added happily. It was clear that Ron was even less keen on Dudley than before. Harry, who knew his best mate very well, wondered which Ron hated more at this point, Dudley or Malfoy.

"Shut it, you three," Harry said irritably. "That girl is a nasty piece of work. You don't want anything to do with her… trust me."

"Who were the others? Do you know them?" Ron asked curiously.

"Yeah," Fred said eagerly. "Who—"

"…were the foxy twins?" George finished for him. They often did this when excited, but Harry still found it spooky that they could finish each others sentences. He wondered, not for the first time, if they could communicate telepathically.

"Andrea and Audra Thompson," Harry told them. "I remember them from school and always really liked them. If they're hanging out with Claire, though, I'd watch out," he warned. "I don't recognize the other two, though."

"We'll watch," Fred said absent-mindedly.

"Yeah," George said, looking towards the living room appreciatively, "we'll definitely watch out for _them_…"

"Just where were you off to a moment ago?" Harry inquired, changing the subject.

"Oh…" Fred said casually, dragging his eyes away from the twins whom he and George were still ogling. "Mundungus," he said simply. "He always keeps a supply of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey on him and we thought we'd haggle a few bottles off him. He's outside on guard duty tonight. Or at least he's supposed to be on duty. You know Mundungus."

"Harry," George asked hesitantly. "Would you mind terribly if we pop back to the shop for a few minutes and check on Lee? He's supposed to be closing up. I was hoping that I could convince him to join us here, if it's alright with you. That would even the odds a bit. You know, five against five - not counting the lovely ladies, of course."

"I don't have a problem with that," Harry told them. "I'm sure another wizard here will send Dudley mad." He grinned at the thought. "Just don't forget to warn him about the no-magic thing, okay? _No one_ can use magic anywhere around here at all, apart from Apparating and Disapparating. That doesn't seem to trigger the underage magical authorities," he said slowly. "Both Dobby and Mundungus did it and nobody said anything. Any wand-magic, though, is certain to cause trouble." He said this more for the twins' benefit than anyone else's.

"Don't worry, Harry, we'll take care of everything. Fred can go dicker with Dung about the Firewhiskey and I'll go collect Lee," George said, settling the matter.

"See if Dung has any butterbeer," Ron called out after them as they headed out the door. "That Muggle stuff was just nasty!" he said, making a face.

"You got it, little brother," Fred said, winking. "You take care of our hero here while we're gone. And do try to stay out of trouble while we're away, won't you?" he said in his best Mrs. Weasley voice.

"Of course," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Same to you…" he warned just before they shut the door.

Ron and Harry had just turned to join the others when the doorbell rang again. Dudley could be heard cursing from the other room, something along the lines of, "Bloody Hell! Who is it this time?"

Harry looked at Ron, who had tensed up at the unexpected sound, and shrugged, "Must be Fred and George coming back. Maybe they've forgotten something." Moving to open the door, he found his jaw dropping for the second time that day as he got the shock of his life. "Hermione? Ginny? _What are you two doing here_?"


	7. The Wrath of Girls

**Chapter Seven**

"**The Wrath of Girls"**

Hermione was so relieved to see Harry standing there looking dumbfounded but safe that she threw herself in his arms and held on tightly. Pulling away, she said in a choked, tearful voice, "Don't you ever frighten us like that again, you big prat!"

Harry looked at her in bewilderment. "Hermione, I'm afraid you've lost me," he said patiently. "What's going on? What are you talking about and why are you and Ginny even here?"

"Hermione's here?" Harry heard Ron gasp from behind him. "How… why?" He shoved past Harry and gaped at them wide-eyed.

"Harry," Ginny said, "Could we take this inside? It's bloody hot out here, you know!"

Slightly embarrassed that he had forgotten his manners, Harry opened the door wider and stepped aside for them to enter. "Of course, come in."

"Why are you two here, and what in Merlin's name did you do to yourselves?" Ron hissed.

It was only then that Harry noticed how different the two looked. Both were wearing Muggle summer clothes that showed off more skin than he had ever seen on either girl before. Ginny's hair was different, and was that _makeup_ Hermione was wearing? His face flushed with unbidden thoughts that seemed wrong, given he was looking at Hermione and Ginny. He shouldn't be looking at all, but somehow he couldn't help himself. They looked _good_.

Hermione's eyes were focused on Ron. They flashed with that dangerous glint she got when she was very perturbed about something. "Ronald Weasley!" she bellowed, sounding uncannily like Mrs. Weasley.

Ron winced and Harry felt very sorry for him at that moment.

"Just what were you _thinking_ sending Pig with a cryptic message about Harry being in trouble," she hissed. "What did you think we'd do? Sit on our hands and wait to hear back from you?!"

Ron had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

"No doubt that's probably exactly what you thought," she accused as she continued to rave. "Let the _boys_ take care of the situation and tell us later what _heroes_ you were!"

Here she paused to jab him in the chest with her pointed finger, "Honestly Ron, you have to be one of the thickest people I know! Did it not occur to you how Ginny and I might feel to get a letter saying that Harry was in trouble and you, Fred, and George were going to help?"

"Why would you do a stupid thing like that?" Harry said, also whirling on Ron.

"Since when is it stupid to let you friends know what's going on with you?" Ginny rounded on him, her voice chilly. Brown eyes locked with green.

Harry felt the heat rise to his face. "I can take care of myself," he said stubbornly.

"That's right, I forgot," Ginny retorted in cold sarcasm. "You don't need anybody, do you?"

He stiffened as if she had struck him. "I didn't ask you to come."

"No, you didn't. You never do." Harry did not miss the cynicism of the remark.

"How'd this get to be _my_ fault?" Harry asked, nettled that she would act this way. He had done nothing wrong.

"You're absolutely right," Ginny said coolly. "It's not _your_ fault… This is all _Ron's_ fault," she said, turning to her brother.

"Look, Ginny," Ron began in his best big brother voice. "Harry's right, you shouldn't have come."

It had been the wrong thing to say. "How _dare_ you say that to me!" Ginny practically shrieked. "Harry is my friend, too, you know! I care about him as much as you two!" Her eyes flashed dangerously. "You, dear brother, can't accept the fact that I'm not a little girl anymore. Times have changed, the world has changed, and I'm in this as deep as anybody! What happens or does not happen to Harry definitely concerns me," she said defiantly.

"I was just as much a part of what happened at the Department of Mysteries as you lot, and I have to say that I fared better than either of _you_," she declared, pointing her finger at Hermione and Ron, who were both slightly shocked that Ginny was so angry. "Like it or not, V-Voldemort is back, and if I have to fight him single-handedly for Harry's or anyone else's sake, I will!" More quietly she said, "It's not like I haven't done it before…."

Harry didn't know what he was more shocked about - the fact that Ginny had just said Voldemort's name or the fact that she was so very pretty when she was angry. Noticing for what seemed like the first time her long, red curls and the tight-fitting shirt that clung to her because of the sticky July heat, he was suddenly stuck dumb by the fact that Ginny Weasley had grown up right under his nose. _'Bloody hell!'_ he thought in surprise. _'When did that happen?'_

"What the hell is going on out here, Potter?" Dudley yelled, appearing at the end of the hallway, bright red with anger. "What's all the shouting about and who are _they_?" he asked, pointing to Hermione and Ginny.

"These are my friends, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley," Harry explained. "As for why they're here… we were just sorting that out," he said evenly, keeping his temper in check.

"I told you," Hermione said, glaring at Ron. "Ron sent me a letter saying that you were in trouble and that he, Fred, and George were coming over to help. Naturally, we assumed—"

"Well, you assumed wrong," Harry cut her off. When would people learn that he could take care of himself? "Nothing is going on here that I can't handle. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon went away for the weekend and Dudley and I are here alone for a few days. Tonks shouldn't have got anyone else involved," he said curtly.

"Well!" Hermione huffed. "I don't know what I expected, but a 'thank you for caring' would have been nice! We went to a lot of trouble to get here, Harry Potter. I even _lied_ to my parents to come! In the future I won't bother! Come on Ginny, let's go," she said, grabbing Ginny's arm and turning to leave.

"Wait! Hermione…" Harry said, apologetically, reaching out to stop her from leaving. "I'm-I'm sorry," he sighed. "I was being a prat and you have every right to be mad. I _am_ grateful that you care. _Really_."

Hermione stopped moving, but still did not turn around. Harry could hear her sniffing, as if trying not to cry. "Come on, Hermione… Ginny—"

He turned to the younger girl who still looked ready to explode. "Don't go."

The tension in the hallway was suffocating. Hermione was still sniffling and Ginny was still standing stiffly, but they had stopped moving towards the door. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were listening now.

"They're not, you know…" Dudley lowered his voice, "_witches_, are they?"

Annoyed, Harry turned to answer. "Yes, Dudley, they are. And damned fine ones at that. I wouldn't mess with them, if I were you. This one," he said, pointing to Ginny, "has a propensity for using a nasty hex that will have your bogeys flapping about your face." He almost laughed as Dudley's face lost all colour. "And this one," he pointed to Hermione, "is the smartest witch in the history of Hogwarts. She knows more hexes and curses than all of us combined."

Dudley squeaked and stared at the girls in terror. He looked too frightened to move. Hermione and Ginny, on the other hand, practically beamed.

"Good!" Ron exclaimed, seeing the girls' change in attitude. "Now that _that's _settled..." he turned to go escape down the hallway.

"Not so fast, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione said sternly.

"Harry may be off the hook for now, but _you're_ not!" Ginny said, equally as stern.

"Look—" he said, turning around slowly and wincing. "I'm sorry, okay?" Attempting to explain, he began to ramble. "See… I was writing you a letter, Hermione, and then Tonks came, and… well, I just put something down and didn't think how it might sound to you."

Because neither girl looked convinced, he tried again, "I'm _really_ sorry you got so upset. I didn't mean for you to get all worried and rush over here. I'll never do anything like that again. I promise!" he said desperately. "Ginny…?" he said, looking at his sister. "Hermione…." Even to Harry he sounded very pitiful.

The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched, but she tried to keep a straight face. "What do you think, Ginny? Should we believe him or hex him?"

"Definitely hex him," Ginny said in a mock-serious tone. Ron looked petrified. "Only joking, big brother." But in a dead serious tone she added, "This time…."

"That goes double for me, and you know I'm capable of it!" Hermione added emphatically.

"I _know_," Ron said, glancing warily at Hermione like he thought she might actually hex him right then and there.

Ron's predicament suddenly seemed very funny to Harry. He caught Ginny's eye and had to fight the laughter down. Her bubbling giggle caused Harry to lose his battle and soon they had all broke into fits of mirth that had Dudley scowling.

"Would you please keep it down?" Dudley said harshly. "We have guests in the other room, you know…"

"Yes, we know," the two girls both said disapprovingly, looking startled that they had said it together, and then laughing all the more.

Once they calmed down, Hermione explained. "We weren't sure what was going on so we hid in the bushes for awhile. We saw that group of girls go in, then Fred and George come out laughing and go separate ways. That's how we knew it was safe to ring the doorbell and find out for ourselves what this was all about."

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, remembering the party going on a few feet away. "Fred and George will be back soon. They went to get… err, some things. Why don't you come into the living room and I'll introduce you?" he asked, trying not to look at Ginny as he said it.

Ginny smiled widely and took hold of his elbow, dragging him down the hall. "We'd love to," she said. He felt his stomach do a small flip at the contact. Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and followed them, leaving a dumbfounded Dudley sputtering in protest behind them.

The four witches and wizards entered the living room cautiously. Without Fred and George, Harry felt somewhat insecure about being around so many Muggles. Having Ron, Hermione, and Ginny there helped to calm his nerves, however.

Looking around, Harry realised that the food his aunt had left had been placed on the coffee table along with a variety of alcoholic beverages that he barely recognised but knew to be very potent. One thing he did not relish was a pissed Dudley, not to mention the rest of the gang. Piers was still giving him the evil eye and Claire was busy shooting daggers at Ginny and Hermione.

Noticing the less than friendly looks they were getting, Ginny tried to make small talk, probably in an attempt to ease the tension. "My, what a lovely room this is, Harry," she said, surveying the sitting room with its stiff chairs, delicate knick-knacks, and many pictures of Dudley. "Too bad there're no pictures of you in here. I'd love to see what you looked like when you were little."

"Why would Mum and Dad want pictures of him?" Dudley said coldly from behind. "He's nothing but an ungrateful freeloader who just happened to get dropped on our doorstep in the middle of the night."

Ginny wheeled around to face Dudley, looking him square in the face. "How _dare_ you talk about Harry like that! You-you don't even know what you're saying…." Her lips puckered with annoyance and she seemed to be trying to justify why he had said that. Ron and Hermione, he noticed, looked just as annoyed but they already knew from Harry that this was to be expected from Dudley.

Harry himself was not bothered in the least, as this was a typical scenario for him. He _was_ somewhat embarrassed to have it played out in front of others, however.

"I know exactly what I'm saying," Dudley retorted with a sneer, having somehow found his confidence in the midst of his friends. "The worst thing that ever happened to this family was when his good-for-nothing parents got themselves blown up and we got stuck with him!" he said, pointing a stubby finger at Harry.

Harry was used to taking insults himself, but he'd be damned if he would listen to Dudley speaking about his parents in such a way. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione looked too shocked to say anything, and the Muggles were looking at them all with open curiosity. "I'd take that back, if I were you Dudley," Harry said dangerously, his green eyes flashing with hidden power. "You remember the last time someone insulted my parents in front of me? I'm sure Aunt Marge won't forget it anytime soon…."

He could feel the magic pulsing around him and it was taking every ounce of self-control he had in him to not do something he would regret later. His stomach clenched tightly and he fought for his fragile control. His eyes glowed with a savage inner fire. Dudley must have recognized the warning signs of Harry's anger getting out of control because he backed off quickly with such a look of utter fear, that he resembled a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

The Muggles sitting around the room had probably never seen Dudley back down from a fight so fast, or be so obviously scared of anyone, ever. Claire, he noted, was watching him in open-mouthed surprise and Ginny's eyes were stony with anger.

"Harry," Hermione said calmly, laying a hand on his taut arm. "You need to calm down. You know the consequences if you let your temper get the best of you."

"I know, Hermione," Harry said through clenched teeth. "I just don't care much right now."

"What… what about our deal?" Dudley squeaked. "You promised…."

"I know exactly what I promised," Harry said with deadly calm. "But insulting my dead parents was not part of the bargain. You should never talk about things you know _nothing_ about, Dudley. It could be very bad for your health." Nevertheless, he felt himself regain a measure of control as the crackle in the air from the residual magic surrounding him dissipated. Everyone noticed a difference in the atmosphere of the room as Harry's anger was brought into check.

Next thing anyone knew, Fred and George were striding back into the living room with Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet in tow. Looking around at the silent group including Dudley's pale face and Harry's dark expression, their jovial attitude seemed to falter slightly.

"Get the impression we missed something, Forge?" one twin said to the other.

"Too right we have, Gred…." The other twin agreed, soberly.

"Ah, well…" the first twin sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "We're back now… and we've brought company. Let the party begin!"

**A/N: ** Thanks for those of you who have left reviews. I really appreciate the feedback and the compliments. If anyone is interested in a message group featuring the H/G ship, there is now one on yahoo. It is striving to archive quality H/G fics and intelligent discussion about our favourites. Come check it out! The link is: We're brand new and need active members!


	8. Friends and More

**Chapter Eight**

**Friends and More**

Fred and George both flashed identical grins upon seeing their sister and Hermione standing in the middle of Harry's living room. To Harry, they didn't seem especially surprised to see them there. It was almost as if they expected it sooner or later.

"See youcouldn't stay away," Fred said to them casually.

"I wonder what was in that letter Ron was writing Hermione…" George mused innocently. He turned to his younger brother. "Oi, Ron! Still hot are you?" Both Ron and Hermione turned various shades of crimson and looked ready to sink through the floor with embarrassment.

Hermione turned to Ron angrily. "Since when does George read my letters?"

"Since he wrestles them out of my hands," he answered her, clearly annoyed.

"Just be glad it wasn't a dung-bomb. It took me ages to get the stink out, right Fred?" Lee chuckled good-naturedly. Harry thought Lee looked much happier now compared to the end of last term, probably due to his new employment with his best mates.

Dudley took this opportunity to butt into the conversation. His face was turning bright purple and Harry thought he very much resembled Uncle Vernon at the moment. "What… who said…" he sputtered, pointing at the group of witches and wizards. "I'll not have any more of _your_ kind here, Potter! Do you here me? _I'll not have it!_ I'll-I'll…"

But exactly what he would do was never revealed. One menacing look from the twins was all Dudley needed to shut him up. To the surprise of his friends, he slumped in the corner and didn't say another word. Everyone ignored him and went on as if he hadn't said a thing.

Harry turned to the Angelina, Alicia, and Katie. "I knew that Lee was coming, but why are the rest of you are here?" he said more sharply than he intended.

"Hullo to you too, Harry!" Alicia called out cheerfully from the middle of the group.

Katie moved closer. "Wotcher Harry! You may be famous, but you never were one to charm the ladies, were you? That's okay, though. We forgive you," she said grinning, as she slapped him good-naturedly on the back.

He looked around nervously at the Muggles, who were looking confused and trying to work out why Katie had said such a ludicrous thing. Ignoring it for now, Harry said apologetically, "I _am_ glad to see you, just surprised. Sorry… I seem to be putting my foot in it a lot today."

"It's a fair question," Angelina said understandingly. Harry was glad to see she had finally forgiven him for getting kicked off the Quidditch team. He supposed winning the Cup helped her to forget that nasty business. "We were meeting the boys at the shop to test out one of their new inventions. But, of course they forgot."

Fred had the decency to look ashamed for a brief moment. "So, George invited them here to make it up to them."

"Hope you don't mind," George said, sidling up to Harry and jabbing him in the ribs.

"I thought you said your shop was in London. How'd they get here so fast?" Piers said suspiciously, pointing to the new arrivals. Dudley, still slumped in the corner, paled and began coughing vigorously.

The witches and wizards all exchanged furtive looks, but George said indignantly, "We called them up and told them to meet us here, of course. Do you think they could just appear out of nowhere?"

As Piers was still mulling over this, Fred swept Ginny up in a big-brotherly hug.

"We missed you this week, little sister. Ron," he said, shooting his brother a disgusted look, "has been no help at all. He tends to get all shirty when we test our products on him. And he calls himself a Weasley! No sense of humour…" he said, shaking his head sadly.

"If you would bother telling me beforehand, I might not get so shirty," Ron mumbled defensively. "I don't fancy having nasty, hairy spiders pop out at me when I'm opening a can of tea, that's all."

Addressing the Muggles, Fred waved at Ron and said, "Don't mind him. He's just sore because we took the mickey out of him a few days ago." Turning back to Ginny, he chuckled, "You should have seen his face, Gin-Gin. It was brilliant!" Pulling at a lock of her new hairstyle, he teased, "Getting yourself all fancied up for Harry, now are we?"

"Shut it, you!" Ginny said good-naturedly. "For your information, Hermione's parents have been very generous to me this week." Shaking her mane of loose red curls, she added, "I happen to like the effect and was thinking of keeping it for awhile."

"Mum'll have kittens when she sees it," George said, giving her an appraising look. He nodded approvingly. "I like it."

"Me too," Harry said quietly, startling himself and everyone else. In the awkward silence that followed Harry's comment, Ginny gave him a funny look. He coloured, both from embarrassment and from her gaze, wishing fervently he had kept his mouth shut. As he silently kicked himself for his stupidity, he had to wonder why every time he looked at her tonight he kept feeling a strange jumping in his chest, like he was nervous and excited all at once. It was unnerving him.

While Harry was thinking these things, Claire took the opportunity to wedge herself into the conversation. "I think it's just lovely," she said, addressing Ginny in her most charming voice. She extended her hand. "Ginger, isn't it? I don't think we've met yet. My name is Claire. Harry and I are old friends." She held out her hand for Ginny to shake. Ginny looked at her strangely, but shook her hand in return.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, throwing Harry an odd glance. "I'm _Ginny_. Ginny Weasley."

Taking the hint, Harry jumped in. "I'm sorry… I suppose I should introduce everybody." He worked his way around the room and made the introductions, learning the two girls he did not know were friends of Claire's from school, Daphne Simpson and Mary Price.

George said flirtatiously to the twins, "It is a pleasure to make _your_ acquaintance, lovely ladies."

"And what lovely ladies you _are_…." Fred added wagging his eyebrows. The twins giggled in delight while everyone else rolled their eyes.

"Don't mind them, girls," Angelina told them warmly. "They're a bit barmy, but you'll get used to them."

"Eventually…." Alicia added with a grin.

"Maybe…" Katie sighed. "If you're lucky."

Claire turned to Ginny. "So, how do _you_ know Harry?"

Ginny seemed astonished at the question. "Er… umm…." she stammered, looking helplessly at the others. Harry guessed it was because of his fame in the Wizarding World that Ginny was having a hard time answering. Or maybe she was just caught off guard and didn't know how much she should say. "Harry's friends with my bothers," she said finally, her cheeks reddening.

"We attend the same school," Hermione offered.

"And we played on the same _football _team as Harry," George added.

Claire eyes narrowed. "I didn't know they allowed girls at St. Brutus's."

"St. Brutus's?" Ginny repeated, confused.

"St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys," Claire said. "That's where Dudley says Harry goes to school."

"No…." Ginny said, looking at Harry for clarification and received an amused look in return.

Ron caught Hermione's eye. "That's where they've been telling people he goes during the year," he said.

Hermione looked ready to explode at the news. "Why would anyone believe Harry could possibly attend a school for criminals? That's ridiculous!"

Everyone else in the room who knew the real Harry began to mutter angrily amongst themselves while the Muggle girls, who had never heard this before, looked shocked and the Muggle boys refused to meet anyone's eyes. Dudley's face was positively ashen now and he looked as if he was breaking out in a cold sweat.

Claire threw her nose up in the air and whirled on him. "Duddy, I think you need to explain," she demanded.

"Do we have to go through this again?" Dudley said tiredly, looking at Piers and the others for help. Piers obviously had not forgiven Dudley for the lie, because he did not offer to help Dudley out of this awkward situation.

He answered her finally, sounding as if he was choking on every syllable. "My parents want everyone to believe that so no one will ask questions about his school." Harry thought he looked positively ill.

"Then were _do_ you go to school?" Daphne asked.

"It's a prestigious school up North," Harry told her. "The same school my parents attended." Hoping that Claire would not demand to know the name of the school and that she would drop the subject, Harry smiled a genuine smile and clapped Dudley on the back. "Feels nice to tell the truth for a change, doesn't Big D?"

"Whatever, Potter," he said through clenched teeth, and Harry knew he'd better watch his back after tonight. Dudley wasn't likely to forget this.

Claire smiled even wider at the news. "Well, well Harry Potter," she said, hooking her arm through his and pulling him aside to stand by her. "You _are_ full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Duddy…" Claire said, staring at Harry. "Turn on some music and getting me another drink. Harry, here, is going to show me around." She attempted to snuggle up to him, much to his horror.

Noticing Dudley's murderous look, Harry peeled himself away from Claire who was hanging on him rather tightly. "How 'bout I handle the music?" he told her. "I'm sure Dudley would do a much better job of showing you around." Turning to Fred and George, he asked, "Did you get the items you went after?"

Claire gave a frustrated little huff at Harry's less than attentive behaviour but he barely noticed. Ginny's angry expression had him distracted and he was trying to recall if he had done or said something to make her hacked off at him again. For some reason he found himself caring very much what Ginny thought about him, and that confused him slightly. Since when did what Ginny think matter to him?

_Since the moment she showed up on your doorstep looking so different, you git, _he thought.

Harry shook himself out of his stupor when Fred answered his question.

"Sure did," he said, grinning. He brandished the bottle of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey and pointed to some other things sitting on the table. "I also picked up the items my little brother requested," he said, indicating two cases of Butterbeer Special and another case of plain Butterbeer like Harry was already used to from his trips to The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. "What some?"

"I'll have the plain stuff, thanks," Harry said, moving towards him.

"Come on mate," Fred pleaded, attempting to hand him a bottle of the alcoholic Butterbeer. "You need to loosen up. You're under too much stress as it is… you deserve to let loose a little after _you_ _know_ _what_."

"Yeah, mate," George agreed. "When was the last time you had some fun?"

Annoyed at having his situation brought up in front of others, he said tightly, "Just the regular stuff, _mate_."

"Fine, fine…" Fred said, handing him the bottle of plain butterbeer. "Have it your way. But one of these days you're going to internally combust from all that pressure, and I hope I'm not around to see it," he muttered.

"Since you're offering," Ginny piped up, "I'll take one."

"Do you think we have a death wish?" Fred answered her. "Mum would kill us if we let you drink!"

"Come on…" Ginny pleaded, turning to George for support. "Please?"

"I'm with him on this one, Gin-Gin. Unlike _some_ _people_," he said, eying Harry, "I don't have a death wish."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry said testily.

"Nothing… forget it," George said quickly, avoiding his family's significant looks and Ginny's angry one. He darted his eyes around the room nervously.

"What aren't you telling me?"

George glanced at Ron and Fred, but avoided looking at Ginny. Everyone, including the Muggles, was staring.

Ginny stepped in and said quietly, "It's nothing, Harry. Mum was just pretty upset after what happed to Sirius. She gave us all an earful when we got home about irresponsible behaviour and taking too many chances. She doesn't blame you, Harry, but she was pretty put out that Ron and I were involved."

Harry looked at Ron for confirmation. He nodded but said, "We'd do it all over again, mate. Ginny and I don't regret being there. Mum's just being protective. She made us promise not to do anything like that again, _and_ to do our best to stop you next time. It's only because she cares so much…."

Harry quickly took a swig of the cold beverage to calm his nerves. It was extra cold, and he wondered if it had been charmed to stay at a certain temperature. He didn't know what to say. Somehow words were just not enough to express how sorry he was that he had dragged everyone into what turned out to be a trap.

"There won't be a next time," he said flatly, turning away and stalking off.

He heard Hermione call after him, but he ignored her. He needed to escape before anyone saw the tears forming in his eyes.

When he returned, he found that everyone had busied themselves with pouring drinks, grabbing handfuls of Aunt Petunia's party food, milling around the room, and selecting music. To his great relief, no one said anything to him about what happened earlier.

Claire was the first to see him standing awkwardly in the doorway. She dragged him over to the stereo to help her flip through the choices of music Dudley had provided. Harry had never heard of any of the groups, but did not want to admit it to her. Instead, he politely told her to choose something, and made his way across the room to join Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

Ron had spied Vernon's chess set that sat high on the shelf collecting dust since Aunt Marge had given it to him for Christmas five years ago. Vernon never played 'the noble game' as his uncle called it, but he had once tried to entice Dudley to learn. Dudley flat refused, probably because it required too much thinking. Harry was under strict orders not to touch it, even though he was the only one in the house who actually played.

"Would it be all right if I got that down?" Ron asked him.

"I don't see why not," Harry said. "Uncle Vernon doesn't allow me to touch it, but, seeing as he's not here…" He grinned.

"Right," Ron said, returning Harry's grin. He didn't seem to need further encouragement and quickly stood on tiptoe to retrieve the Muggle chess set from the high shelf.

The small group moved into the kitchen with the game. Ron set it down on the table and then stood back and looked at it in confusion. All of the pieces were placed pristinely on the board, standing quietly at attention in their proper places.

Hermione, seeing his bewildered expression, whispered, "It's the same rules as wizard chess only you have to pick up the pieces and move them yourself. They don't talk and they definitely do _not_ bludgeon one another to death."

"Where's the fun, then?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione huffed. "Does a game have to be violent in order to be fun?"

"Nooo…." Ron said slowly, rolling his eyes as if it were obvious. "But it sure does make it more interesting." His comment earned an audible sigh from Hermione.

Turning to the chess board and blowing a layer of dust off the top, he asked, "So, who wants to have the honour of going first?"

"I think you and Hermione had better have the first go," Harry said. "You know how bad I am at wizard chess," he added in a hushed tone, "and I'm even worse at Muggle chess. It really wouldn't be a fair fight."

"All right then, I guess it's me and you 'Mione," Ron said casually.

If Hermione noticed the odd use of her name, she did not let on. Sitting down at the table across from Ron, she asked him seriously, "Which do you prefer, white or black?"

"Well…" Ron said, his chin resting on his hand in a thoughtful gesture, "…I usually play black at home because the pieces will almost always do what I tell them, but I don't have to worry about that here so you choose."

"White will do fine, Ron," Hermione said smiling sweetly.

Since it was already set up, all they had to do was rotate the chess board to the correct side. Hermione launched into a detailed montage of the history of chess, whispering the key differences between Muggle chess and wizard chess when no one else was around. Harry noticed Ron's eyes began to study the board right away as she talked, already analysing potential strategies. Both looked very content.

Harry and Ginny watched them play chess for a while until Harry noticed Claire begin to weave her way back towards him. Thinking quickly, he leaned over to whisper in Ginny's ear, "Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

The close proximity of the innocent act made his stomach do that strange little flip again, increasing his nervousness. Somehow, it felt strangely good, making him want to do it again. But he resisted the urge to remain close to her and backed up several paces.

"I'd love to," she grinned. Just as Dudley moved in to waylay Claire, Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and ducked into the hallway heading upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, Harry stopped. "Let me give you the abbreviated version, since technically I'm not allowed in any room other than mine.

"First," he said, waving his hand in the direction of a closed door at the end of the hall, "is my aunt and uncle's bedroom. I won't bother taking you down there because it will be locked. They don't trust me, you see, so they will have locked it up just in case I would ever get the urge to go exploring into forbidden territory." He laughed wickedly. "Like I'd ever want to do _that_! Ugh!" he said, smiling. "Just the image of those two in bed together gives me the creeps!"

Ginny's laugh at his comment made him feel all tingly and slightly giddy. The feeling was a stark contrast to his earlier depression and made him urn to hear it again.

"Next," Harry said, shaking himself out of it and pointing to a door to the right at the far end of the hall, "is Dudley's bedroom - easily the biggest bedroom in the house, yet he complains that he doesn't have enough space for all his rubbish. Most of it deserves the bin anyway, if you ask my opinion… which no one does, of course. I won't take you in there, either, because it is not fit for human habitation. Besides, I doubt Dudley would like it if he found us poking around in his room. I'm on thin ice as it is," he sighed.

"I don't know about that," Ginny said, giggling. "I think you scared the living daylights out of him earlier."

"Yeah, well…" Harry said, ducking his head. "I _did_ sort of let my temper get the best of me when he was talking about my mum and dad," he admitted ruefully. "Usually I just take it because I hear it so often that I rarely let it bother me anymore. But I've been under a bit of a strain lately and, well... you know how it is."

Ginny smiled warmly and put her hand on his arm. Making him look her straight in the eyes, she said, "Harry, you are the king of understatements. It's all right to admit that you miss him, you know."

Harry sprang away as if he had been burned by her touch. He wasn't exactly upset at what she had said. It was more the fact that she seemed to know what he was feeling, and that greatly unsettled him. Not looking at her, he finally chose to ignore the fact that she had even said anything.

Ginny seemed to accept this and he was grateful for her understanding on the matter. She did not press him further and tried to lighten the mood. "So, where's the most important room, then?" she asked, grinning.

Pulling himself out of his dark thoughts, he looked at her blankly. "What?"

"I asked," she said, "where the most important room was…" She laughed at what must have been his increasingly confused expression. "You know… the bathroom?"

"Oh, yeah… right," he said, feeling stupid. Despite the tightness in his chest, he felt his mood lighten aain. "It's over there on the right," he told her, smiling weakly as he said it. He pointed to another closed door.

"And your bedroom? Where is that?" she asked, seeming half embarrassed and half curious. "You don't still stay in the cupboard do you?"

Harry laughed. "No, but believe it or not, sometimes I wish I did."

Before she could ask what he meant by that, he pulled her through the doorway closest to them. He couldn't help noticing how she paused and stared at the many locks and bolts outside of the door.

Flipping on the light and shutting the door behind them, Harry busily began straightening the room by kicking piles of clothes under the bed and throwing others in the wardrobe. "Sorry about the mess," he apologised, his face heating slightly. He silently cursed himself for not straightening up earlier after he had taken his shower. Of course, he had not exactly been expecting company then.

"That's all right, Harry," she assured him. "Don't forget, I've lived with six brothers so there's not much I haven't seen."

As he tidied up, Ginny looked around at the sparsely decorated room. The largest and most prominent thing in the room was Hedwig's cage. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Ginny walked over and was greeted by a friendly hoot from the regal owl.

"Hello, Hedwig," she said softly as she reached in to stroke the owl's snowy white feathers. "Are you taking good care of Harry?"

Hedwig hooted a yes.

Harry blinked in surprise. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she just answered you."

At that, Hedwig gave him a reproachful look and ruffled her feathers in indignation.

"Sorry, girl," Harry apologised. "Not doing very well with the ladies tonight, am I?" Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow at Ginny.

"You're just being you," Ginny said sounding affectionate. This time, Harry definitely noticed her colour slightly. He thought it was cute how she did that.

"I meant to say that it's all right. I don't think it bothers _Claire_ much," she said, her voice trailing off and laced with venom.

"Claire!" Harry scoffed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he sighed, "She's a piece of work isn't she? Hasn't changed a bit, that one."

Ginny looked at him quizzically as she joined him on the bed, one knee propped up so that she was facing him. "What do you mean?"

"Claire was always one of the first in school to pick on me - next to Dudley and his friends, that is," he explained. He hated to think about the past and how miserable he had been before he went to Hogwarts, but for some reason felt the need to tell her.

"All the other kids were afraid to cross Dudley, so I never had any friends growing up. Every time anyone would be nice to me they immediately paid the consequences with Dudley's fist or some other kind of payback. Andrea and Audra were always nice though…" he mused, caught up in his memories. "I remember them giving me sympathetic glances in the hallways or in class when I was being picked on. They were too afraid of Dudley to say anything though.

"But Claire…" He paused, frowning. "She always seemed to really _enjoy_ making fun of me - teasing me about being an orphan, calling me names like 'freak' and 'four-eyes,' that kind of thing."

"That must have been awful," Ginny said sympathetically. "Sounds a bit like Malfoy to me."

"Yeah, it was," Harry agreed. Grinning suddenly, he said, "'Course it came in handy later because, being used to name-calling and all, I never let slimy gits like Malfoy ruin my Quidditch game!"

"Leave it to boys to equate everything to Quidditch!" she laughed.

"I can't help it…. It's one of the things I miss most about the Wizarding world when I'm here," he told her with a grimace.

"I haven't been able to play much since the season ended, either," she said. "Ron and I kicked around an old Quaffle once or twice this summer, but Mum and Dad mostly think it's too dangerous to be outside much because - well, you know… _Voldemort_, and everything."

He felt a shiver at the name. He wasn't used to hearing other people say it, except for Dumbledore and occasionally Hermione. "Ginny…" he said, hesitantly. "I've been meaning to say something. That's the second time today I've heard you say his name." He found himself struggling for the right words.

"So?" she asked, matter-of-factly. "You say it."

"But, most people can't. Hermione only just recently started saying his name, and even then she stutters. Ron has never said it even once, and I've never noticed anyone else in your family say it either. But you say it like it's nothing," he told her, his expression full of respect. "I'm just surprised, is all…"

"It's not _nothing,_ Harry," she said quietly. "But you have to remember, I lived with him in my head for almost a whole year. To me, he's a real person named Tom Riddle who was evil even at the age of 16. He's not just a name. I never used to say his name before the diary, and he still hurt me." She shrugged, "Besides, Dumbledore thinks that it helps conquer the thing you fear if you face it head on, and that's what I chose to do."

"Do you think about him often?" he asked. "About... what happened?" Harry was having an internal debate with himself. He didn't know whether he wanted to talk about this at all, but something was making him press onwards.

_Should he tell her what had happened at the Department of Mysteries?_ If he thought hard about it, he could still feel the cold serpent twisted around his very soul, as much a part of him as his arm or leg….

His scar twinged slightly. Voldemort had entered his body and used him. It was a violation beyond description, and yet she had suffered with it for the better part of a year. Harry gained a new respect for Ginny Weasley at that moment. But, would she want to talk about it? Did he?

"I try not to," she said softly, looking down. "But sometimes I can't help myself… it just kind of sneaks up on me, and I'm lost…."

"Yeah," he said roughly because a lump had begun to form in his throat. "I know that feeling."

"Flying helps me," she said brightly.

"Huh?"

"Oh, I know I don't have a fancy broomstick like your Firebolt… and I can't go really fast - not like I want to, but sometimes I sneak out, whether I'm home at the Burrow or at Hogwarts, and just go flying," she said. "When I'm high up in the air and I feel the rush of wind in my hair and on my face, I just feel free. You, know… carefree, like the—"

"…like the only things that matter are how fast you can go, how high you can get… just letting the wind wash everything else away. All the bad memories - they just disappear and the only thing left is you and your broom," he finished for her.

"Yeah," Ginny whispered hoarsely.

"What about Quidditch, Ginny?" he asked, changing the subject. He really didn't want to talk about Voldemort anymore right now. "Are you going to try out for the Chaser position on the house team this year?" he asked. "That is, assuming my lifetime ban is revoked and I get back on the team."

"It will be," Ginny assured him, placing her hand on his arm.

Harry startled at her gentle touch. He wasn't used to being touched in that way.

She smiled. "McGonagall probably made it her first order of business once that cow, Umbridge, was chucked out. You know how competitive she is. Besides, as much as I liked being on the team, it just didn't feel right taking your spot. You're a hard act to follow, Harry Potter!" Ginny teased.

"Nah, I'm not…" he said modestly, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting.

Ginny 'tsked' in amusement. "'Youngest Seeker in a century' ring any bells?" she asked, her brown eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, but you were really good, too," he told her with conviction. "The way you caught that snitch out from under Summerby's nose in your first match! And, even though I didn't actually get to see it, I heard that Cho wasn't too happy when you did the same thing to her and won us the House Cup!"

Truthfully, it had been painful to watch Ginny in his position, but his jealousy did not extend to ill feelings towards her success. If it couldn't be him out there on the pitch, he was glad that Gryffindor had found someone as talented as Ginny.

"That was nothing," she blushed. "Anyone could have made those catches."

"Not just anyone," he said adamantly. "You don't see Ravenclaw with the Cup do you?"

"No, I guess not. Of course, Ron's goal-keeping had as much to do with that win as me catching the snitch."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't caught it, Gryffindor may have lost anyway. Even Fred and George had nothing but praise for you last year."

"Those two!" she said affectionately. "They're easy to impress!"

"Actually, no they're not," Harry said seriously. "Remember that night you and Ron came back all muddy from one of your first Quidditch practices?"

She looked puzzled but nodded thoughtfully. "I think so," she said hesitantly. "I remember wondering if I had made a mistake. I love Quidditch, but I hate playing in foul weather."

"Well, while you and Ron were off taking your baths, Fred and George turned up. They had been watching practice and, although they agreed that the team was awful, they had nothing but praise for you. They said they didn't know how you got so good, seeing as they never let you play with them."

"They said that?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Harry assured her. "Hermione told us then that you'd been breaking into the broom shed for years, and taking their brooms out in turn when no one was looking," he grinned, looking her straight in the eyes. Immediately, Harry wished he had not done that because he was finding it difficult to pull his eyes away.

"Hermione needs to learn to keep a secret," she said ruefully, looking away. "Besides, I'd been watching you for going on four years. I suppose I picked up a few things."

They made eye contact again and he froze, mesmerized.

"You've been watching me?" he said softly. His eyelids felt very heavy and his breathing quickened. He felt something that very much resembled an invisible magnet pulling him towards her.

Slowly, her eyes widened and he knew without a doubt she felt it too. It spurred him on. He leaned in slightly, cautiously, and she did not back away. Nervously, he watched her wet her lips and, in some part of his rational brain, he knew that act only enticed him more.

"Everyone watches you," she said, sounding very far away.

He was torn between staring at her lips and eyes. The murky brown pools reflected a want that he realised was mirroring his own desire. He felt as if he could drown in those eyes and be perfectly content.

"I don't care about everyone…"

He leaned closer and she still did not move. She looked scared, surprised, and happy all at the same time. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

Harry didn't even realise he was holding his breath until Claire broke through the door, shattering the moment and causing the two teenagers to break apart quickly, a sense of uneasiness hanging in the air.

"_There_ you are, Harry!" she exclaimed, a winning smile plastered on her pretty face.

"Yes," he said in irritation, frowning, "here I _am_."

"We've been looking for you," she said, narrowing her blue eyes. "The others have been wondering where you went."

"Well, you found us."

"Yes, I did," she said, sounding very strange.

Ginny broke the tension. She jumped up and breezed past Claire, turning to Harry just before she exited. "Thanks for the talk, Harry," she said, winking. "How about we finish this later?"

His mouth dropped open. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

Claire was giving them both cold looks, but he could care less. Ginny Weasley had, more or less, just admitted that she still liked him. This was turning out to be the best night of his life! Even Claire couldn't spoil it for him now.


	9. Double, Double Toil and Trouble!

**Chapter Nine**

"**Double, Double, Toil and Trouble!"**

Harry and Ginny returned with Claire in tow to find the party in full swing. With amusement, Harry noted that Fred and George had taken up residence as the self-appointed bartenders and were busy making sure that everyone had plenty to eat and drink. Dudley seemed to be sulking in the corner, and Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were making friends with Audra, Andrea, Daphne, and Mary.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were still in the middle of their chess game, and the boys had chosen to pass the time with a cut-throat game of poker. Harry was not surprised to see Lee in the middle of the card game, although where he had got the Muggle money to add to the pot, he could not imagine.

Rejoining Ron and Hermione in the kitchen, he was shocked to find Hermione in the lead. "Well, done, Hermione!" he exclaimed, earning a frustrated grunt from Ron. "Way to put this prat in his place!"

"Just because _you_ can't beat me," Ron retorted. "Besides, it's not over yet - I may be down, but I'm not out."

"Yet!" Ginny laughed. "But as soon as Hermione takes your queen…"

"Will you be quiet, Ginny! I'm trying to concentrate," Ron hissed desperately.

"It's all right, Ron," Hermione said condescendingly. "You'll be out of your misery soon."

"I—I just can't understand it…" Ron said, shaking his head and raking a hand through his hair. "I _never_ lose!"

"Well," Hermione said, taking his queen. "I think there's always a first time for everything. Checkmate," she grinned.

"_What_! How?" He examined the chessboard furtively.

"Let me explain, Ron," Harry said sympathetically but with sarcasm. "When Hermione's queen is about to take your king and there is no way to escape, that's called a checkmate."

"Chess is such a dignified game," Claire said from behind Harry to no one in particular. "Do you play often, Harry?"

Harry was startled by her question. He had forgotten that she was even there and had to think a full minute before answering. He played Wizard Chess at least once a week with Ron when at Hogwarts. Of course, he always got thrashed, and he only really played for Ron's sake. This was Muggle chess, though, and Harry could not truthfully ever remember playing it before.

"Sort'a," he said finally, hoping she wouldn't question him.

"What do you mean by sort'a? Either you do or you don't," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Seeing his friend struggle, Ron answered for Harry. "What he means is that he _tries_ to play chess but usually fails miserably." He smirked at Harry in payback for his earlier ribbing.

"Yeah, well…" he stammered as he tried to think of a suitable comeback, "we all have our strengths and chess is _not_ mine."

"I'm sure you have _many_ strengths, Harry," Claire said sweetly, looking him up and down appreciatively. No one could mistake her meaning and Harry could see Ginny's temper rising. Oddly, he liked she was irked by Claire's comment.

"Of course Harry has strengths," George declared as he set a new bottle of Butterbeer Special down for Ron to drown his sorrows into after losing so magnificently to Hermione. "Why, he's one of the best teachers I ever had."

"_George_," Harry growled in warning.

"Now, now Harry. Don't be modest!" Fred said, clapping him on the shoulder and handing him a bottle as well.

"What exactly do you teach, Harry?" Claire asked.

"Why, defence, of course!" George told her. "Harry's an expert at defence, aren't you Harry?"

"Excellent!" Claire said, sounding very impressed. "Do you think you could teach me a few moves?"

Harry squirmed under Ginny's glare. "Umm… maybe some other time," he stammered, feeling more and more like he wanted to drop through the floor or bolt out of the room. He shot Fred and George murderous looks that they returned with identical clueless grins.

"And don't forget the duelling, right George?" Fred added. "Harry's especially good at duelling."

"_Fred_," Harry groaned helplessly. Turning to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny he pleaded silently for their help.

"Really, Harry, you are being too modest," Hermione said in attempting to salvage the situation. "You are one of the best in our class at _swordsmanship_."

"I'll second that. Harry is very effective with a sword," Ginny muttered darkly, making Harry wonder if she was thinking of the Chamber of Secrets.

"Isn't that interesting?" Claire said. "The more I learn about you, Harry Potter, the more I like." She squeezed his arm and flashed him a winning smile, before returning to the living room to retrieve her drink, which she had abandoned there when she had set off to find him upstairs. Harry watched as she was beckoned by her friends to join the conversation being held around the sofa.

Ginny looked as if she wanted to take out her wand and hex Claire from behind as she watched her sauntered away, swinging her hips seductively, and glancing back at Harry flirtatiously to see if he noticed. The sight was not unpleasant, and all four boys watched her retreat with open admiration. Harry knew Claire was trying to manipulate him. It was glaringly obvious. Although he was not interested in the least, a small part of him couldn't help but admire her lovely backside as she strode away.

Coming to his senses, he glared at the twins. "You're not helping. I'm trying to get rid of her, not make her more interested in me!"

"Ooooh… sorry, Harry," Fred and with fake concern, flashing George a triumphant smile. "We had no idea she even liked you that way."

"Bullocks!" Harry hissed.

"Language, Potter," George tsked. "There are ladies present. We wouldn't want you corrupting our little sister."

"As if," Ginny muttered.

Laughing, the twins turned to leave.

"Not so fast you two," Hermione said sternly, putting both of her hands on her hips and frowning. Her tone of voice was effective at stopping the duo from slinking off. They both stiffened as if preparing for a blow, but turned back around. Their identical faces were the picture of innocence. Harry could easily imagine them giving their mother those very same expressions, after being caught doing something they shouldn't.

"Yes?" George asked, attempting to act confused.

"Did we do something wrong?" Fred asked, in the most innocent voice he could muster.

"What possessed you to do that?" she hissed. "Do you want the Muggles to become suspicious?"

"Aw, lighten up Hermione. We were just having a bit of fun," George said.

"Yeah, we knew what we were doing," Fred said. "Besides, you're a fine one to talk. You didn't see us saying anything to _you_ when you were giving Ron the encyclopaedic version of the differences between wizard chess and Muggle chess, did we?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, I wasn't talking to any Muggles, was I?"

"No, but if anyone had bothered to listen they could have got an earful, all right," Fred said, wagging his index finger at her.

"Lucky for you, Hermione, no one but us bothered to listen. It was about as exciting as one of Binns' lessons," George told her malevolently.

"Now wait just a moment!" Ron erupted. "_I_ don't think she's boring, and she _was_ talking to me, you know!"

Harry noticed that Hermione, who had at first looked hurt by George's frankness, now appeared to be highly pleased that Ron had defended her. She was about to retort back when Harry decided he had heard enough.

"Shut it now, all of you," he said irritably. "_Everyone_ needs to remember what's at stake here. I don't need any more trouble from the Ministry, do I?"

"Too right you are, Harry," George agreed haughtily, looking Ron and Hermione up and down in indignation.

"That goes double for you two," Harry said firmly to the twins. "And I think I'll have your wands for safe-keeping." He stuck out his hand palm up and looked at them expectantly.

"What!" the both yelled in unison.

"You heard me," Harry said firmly. "I told you that wand magic will most likely get me expelled, even if it's not me doing the magic. So hand them over. I'm going to collect them from everyone just in case. With all this alcohol being consumed, one of you might slip up and forget. Then, before you know it, I'm being tried in front of the full Wizengamot like last summer, facing charges for underage magic or worse.

"Don't worry…" he assured them, "you'll get them back when you leave."

Neither twin seemed happy about this demand, but neither could they argue with Harry's logic. Harry had the satisfaction of seeing them both shamefaced as they reluctantly handed over their wands. He quickly stowed them out of sight in Hermione's backpack, then as unobtrusively as possible, called each of the witches and wizards aside and asked them for their wands as well. Each obliged grudgingly.

As he walked towards the hallway with Hermione's backpack towards his old cupboard where he intended to store them, he was pleasantly surprised to find Ginny tagging along behind him with her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Can I put mine with Hermione's?" she asked, motioning to her bag.

"Sure," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "No problem."

They stopped just outside the door to the cupboard under the stairs. "So… this is the famous cupboard that the famous Harry Potter grew up in," Ginny said softly, touching the door gently and turning to look at him with unreadable eyes.

"Yep," Harry murmured, staring at the door, lost in nostalgic memories. "My room - the only thing in this house that ever truly belonged to me," he told her.

"Is what you said upstairs true, then?" she asked. "Do you sometimes wish you were still living in here?"

"Sometimes," he said. "This is where I lived most of my life, after all… before I came to Hogwarts. I spent a lot of time in there."

Harry opened the door to the cupboard and reached for the light, noticing the various mops and brooms that his aunt used to keep her house spotless. "Now it's a broom cupboard again, like it was meant to be, I suppose. I guess that means I'm nothing more than rubbish as far as my aunt and uncle are concerned," he said bitterly.

Not really understanding why he telling her this, he said, "Sometimes, this was the only place where I could go to escape from the yelling and stuff that I'd get almost every day. I'd go in there and, if I was lucky, they'd forget about me." He smiled a bittersweet smile. "I'd dream that someday some long lost relative would come and sweep me away from here and I'd live a fairy-tale life with people who cared about me…. Then Hagrid came and I _did_ go away."

Ginny smiled, "You _are_ living a fairy-tale life, Harry. You're the hero and everything," she said softly.

He frowned. "I'm no hero."

"You are to me," Ginny said evenly.

"Heroes don't get other people killed," he said, a lump forming in his throat. "Heroes always know the right thing to do and the right thing to say. I'm no hero, Ginny."

"Harry," Ginny said, turning him around so that he was forced to look at her. He averted his eyes. "Look at me, Harry," she commanded.

Turning, he looked her straight in the eyes and once again he had the sensation of drowning. He realised suddenly that he was so tired. Tired of the pain… tired of the burden… tired of the responsibility.

"You saved me from the Chamber of Secrets and Tom Riddle. You saved lots of people from certain death by stopping Voldemort when you were only a baby. And then you delayed him from returning when you were eleven years old by stopping him from getting the Philosopher's Stone. You went to the Department of Mysteries without thought for your own safety to help Sirius. You _are_ a hero."

"But I—" Harry tried to protest that his mother had saved him and his own stupidity had actually got Sirius killed, but the words got stuck in his throat. If he had only stayed put, maybe…

Ginny continued, and Harry had the feeling she was willing him to see the person that _she_ saw. "Even though you knew the risk - that you might be walking into a trap - you chose to sacrifice yourself for the possibility of saving him."

Harry felt his anger stir. It leapt out of him like a striking snake. "But I didn't, Ginny! Can't you see that? I didn't! I made it worse. I—I as good as killed him."

He looked down at his feet because he could bear to see the sympathy in her eyes. He had said it. The thought that had been tormenting him for weeks hung in the air between them like a lead weight. The truth of it was dragging him under.

He was surprised when she jerked him up and forced him to look at her. "That was _not_ your fault," she said angrily. "_Bellatrix_ _Lestrange_ killed Sirius while he was fighting her. It was his choice. Professor Lupin told us all about what happened. Sirius was itching for a fight. He couldn't wait to get there so that he could be in the middle of things again. They were fighting and Sirius was taunting her and then she hit him with a curse and he fell backwards into that veil. You were nowhere near him Harry. You couldn't have saved him."

Being reminded of his failings deflated his anger. If he hadn't been there in the first place, if he hadn't allowed himself to get tricked, then Sirius would have been safe at Grimmauld Place. "You don't understand," he said sadly, turning away.

"You think I don't understand?" Ginny said angrily. He tried to avert his eyes again. "Look at me, Harry Potter!" she demanded, jerking him to attention again.

He looked up at her reluctantly. Her angelic face was lightly dusted with freckles and her beautiful, brown eyes were glowing with emotion. Her long mane of fiery-red hair billowed around her shoulders and framed her faced perfectly. He didn't deserve for someone so beautiful - both on the inside and out - to look at him that way. Not when he was a murderer… when he was destined to either kill or be killed.

"I used to live with regrets and guilt, Harry," she told him quietly. Harry could see the truth of it written on her face. "For a long time I blamed myself for what Lucius Malfoy and Tom Riddle did to me… what I did to myself and the people I hurt. I could have stopped it, but I didn't. I could have chosen _not_ to write in the diary… but I did."

Her voice grew softer and she reached up to touch his cheek. "Harry, life is full of regrets and sorrows. There will never be a time when you look back and say 'I did that exactly right.' You do the best you can with what you're given - you make the best decisions you can with the information you've got. There's not much more you can do. Look at it this way… what if Sirius really _had_ been captured? Would it have been worth it then, if you could have saved him?"

Harry frowned, thinking. "Maybe," he answered truthfully.

"What if you had died trying to save me from Tom? Would you want me to pine away and blame myself for your death?"

"I went down there of my own free choice," Harry told her unquestioningly. "But that's different."

"How is that different?"

"What happened to you wasn't your fault. You were only a little girl."

"I was old enough to know better. No one made me write in that diary," she pointed out. "My dad always warned me about enchanted objects, but did I listen? People almost died because of me. _You_ almost died."

"But they didn't. Sirius _did_ die because I made a poor decision and I should have known better," he said stubbornly.

"It was only dumb luck that no one died from that Basilisk," she countered. "I could be a murderer."

"Please stop blaming yourself, Ginny," Harry said angrily. "You wouldn't be the murderer, Voldemort would! How could you be responsible for what Tom and Lucius Malfoy did? They used you. If it wasn't you, then it would have been someone else who maybe wouldn't have fought as hard. Dumbledore even said that older, wiser wizards had been tricked by him…."

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. If Ginny _wasn't_ responsible, then how could he say he was responsible? Tom had tricked both of them. He had known better, yes, but his feelings and emotions had over-ridden all sense of caution. Just like Sirius - charging into the Ministry even though he was a wanted man, taunting Bellatrix until she killed him. But if he had learned Occlumency in the first place he would not have been hoodwinked, and Sirius would still be alive. In a way, he _was_ partly responsible.

"Harry, if you believed Ron or Hermione was in danger, would you try to help?"

"Of course!" he said automatically, somewhat distracted by his reeling thoughts. Then he finally understood. He _would_ try and help, because that was what he was about. Ginny _did_ understand. It all came back to that _saving people thing _that Hermione tried to talk to him about in June; it was as natural to him as breathing.

If Sirius was alive and in trouble or if Ron or Hermione needed him, Harry knew he would go to the end of the Earth to help the people he cared about. He acted with his heart and hoped for the best. That was how he lived. He _was_ guilty, but only of miscalculation and poor judgement… no more than Sirius. Voldemort and Bellatrix were truly the ones guilty of murder because they had wanted people to die and had used Harry to accomplish it. They knew he would come and he played right into their hands. But no more.

_They had to pay._

In that instant the hate spread through him like a wildfire, consuming him. It was a feeling like he had never had before. Only one other time in his life had he ever felt or experienced anything comparable to this hatred - when he had attempted to cast the Cruciatuscurse on Bellatrix at the Ministry of Magic. A thirst for revenge consumed him, and he felt himself nearly suffocating with the heaviness of it.

He felt the snake inside him rear up and arch to strike. He tried to warn Ginny to get away but before he could speak, his scar exploded and he could hear the high-pitched evil laugh ringing in his head. He screamed in agony.

The snake was coiled around him, trying to squeeze the life out of him just like he had done in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He could feel Tom's pleasure through the pain and it sickened him.

Something was happening. Something terrible was happening and he was powerless to stop it.

He… had… to…_ protect… Ginny… _That was his last coherent thought before the world as he knew it turned to blackness and he passed out.


	10. AfterEffects

Disclaimer:   
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.   
  
No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Warning:** This story may contain content that is not suitable for children. 

**Chapter Thirteen**

**"After-Effects"**

As his scar burst with pain, Harry was not sure of anything apart from the snake inside him. He briefly remembered thinking, _'So this is what it's like to have someone else in your head…'_ and then… nothing. The next thing he knew, he awoke and was lying on his bed with an anxious Ron, Hermione, and Ginny peering down over him. 

"What happened?" he asked groggily, clapping a hand to his aching head. He groaned loudly.

"That's what we'd like to know, mate," Ron asked worriedly. "Ginny said that one moment you two were talking and the next you went deathly pale and collapsed. Was... was it You-Know-Who?"

"Yes," Harry answered without elaborating.

"D-did you see something?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"No," Harry said, curtly.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Harry! We're just trying to help. Please co-operate with us for a change," Ginny pleaded. "Just tell us what's going on." 

"I—I can't Gin," he said tiredly. How could he tell her that Voldemort had been inside his head listening to everything they had talked about? Feeling everything that he had felt?

"You can't, or won't?" she asked crossly.

"I can't talk about it right now," he tried to explain. He felt contaminated, violated, weak. How could he put into words what had just happened? It was impossible! The monster he hated most in this world had been inside him and Harry had not even been aware of it until he lost control of his emotions. He could still hear echoes of that cold, harsh laugh ringing in his head. The same laugh that he heard when the Dementors got too near… the same one he had heard as a baby when Voldemort had killed his mother. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Harry, have you been practising your Occlumency?"

"Huh?" Ginny asked, staring perplexedly at Hermione. "What's that?"

"Occlumency," Hermione said with slight exasperation. "Harry has been studying it since after last Christmas with Professor Snape. It's a form of magical defence of the mind against internal penetration," she explained. "It's to protect him from having these episodes, but apparently it's not working very well." She looked at him accusingly. 

Harry averted his eyes. The truth was that he had not been practising Occlumency. He had not practised in a very long time. Harry had tried to convince himself that it was necessary, but his experience with Snape had tainted his opinion of the mind defence technique. He had effectively blocked himself from having mastered the skill. 

"I knew it! Harry Potter—" she began, but Harry cut her off.

"Don't even start, Hermione," he said adamantly. "This is my business. It has nothing to do with you."

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but it was Ron that stepped in. "How could you say that to us?" He was beginning to get angry. "After everything we've—" but Ginny cut him off.

"Ron, let me speak to Harry alone, please," she said quietly. Ron looked like he wanted to argue. Turning to her friend she pleaded, "Please, Hermione?" 

"Let's go check on the twins," Hermione told Ron, trying to master the hurt expression on her face.

"Yeah, we'll be downstairs _if_ you decide to trust us and want to tell us what's going on," he said, taking Hermione's outstretched hand and pulling her roughly from the room.

Harry felt bad. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his friends. Ron and Hermione had always been there for him and they did not deserve to be treated this way. But Harry just couldn't talk about this yet - not with anyone.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it," he said angrily.

"I know what you said, Harry, but this is me - the person who had Him in her head for almost a year. Remember?" she touched his cheek. "You can tell me anything and I won't judge you."

"I-I can't talk about it," he said hesitantly, that now-familiar lump threatening to rise again.

"That's fine… I understand," she said gently. "Just promise me that if you _do_ ever want to talk, you'll come to me? Or Ron, or Hermione?"

Harry closed his eyes and nodded gratefully, taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek. He breathed a sigh of relief that he did not have to put into word what had just happened. How did she do that? How could she know him so well? He had never given Ginny Weasley much thought before tonight, but in a few short hours he felt grateful that maybe someone _could_ understand some of what he was going through. That thought made him feel significantly better and less isolated from the rest of the world.

"How's your head feeling? Does it still hurt?" she asked anxiously.

"Like somebody hit me around the head with a Bludger," he said ruefully.

"Lie down, and let me get you a cold compress," she said sympathetically. "Mum always does that for me when I have a headache." He nodded and sunk back down on the bed, feeling a little better. A few minutes later and she came back with a wet cloth. As she pressed it to his head over his scar, Harry immediately felt some of the pain ease. "Is that better?" she asked worriedly.

"Umm-huh," he murmured groggily. He could feel her stroking his hair and that, more than anything, was helping ease the tension. His head was slowly returning to normal and it was no longer aching painfully. Instead, a warm feeling was beginning to replace the pain. This was a new feeling and it was not unpleasant.

In fact, Harry was beginning to feel very warm. His stomach was doing that little flip-flop thing and he felt chills run up and down his spine at her gentle caress. He had never known a feeling quite like this, and he didn't want it to stop. Opening his eyes, he looked up and her. She looked like an angel… so beautiful…

She stopped suddenly and looked at him earnestly, concern shining in her eyes. "Is everything all right?" Instead of answering her, he pulled her closer to him and, before he could even analyse what he was about to do, he pulled her down to him and kissed her. 

At first, her surprise made her resist slightly. Then, when she realised what they were doing, he felt her surrender fully and allow herself to be kissed. Harry had never felt such a need before in his life. From the moment their lips touched, he was consumed. He needed her… he had to claim her. He was on top of her now, feeling every inch of her body and kissing her with a passion he did not know he possessed. Thoughts of Voldemort, the prophecy, everything were washed away, and the only thing that mattered was the two of them. His one brief experience with Cho Chang had been nothing like this. This was pleasure beyond description, and he couldn't get enough of her.

When Harry had begun kissing her, Ginny had been shocked. She had never expected that to happen. _How_ it had happened, she wasn't quite sure. But it had and now that it had, she couldn't stop. She had wondered so many times what it would be like to kiss Harry, but she had never imagined anything that compared to this. Her whole body was alive and awake. She was aware of nothing but him and her need for him. Her hands were in his hair, trailing down his back, and she was kissing him back with an intensity that rivalled his when he was chasing after the snitch. His hand was behind her neck and the other was feeling her body up and down, sending shivers all over. She wasn't complaining…

Just as suddenly as it had begun it ended. They both broke apart and gasped for air, looking at each other with wide eyes. Ginny was the first to speak. "_What_ was that?" she gasped.

"I—I'm sorry…" he stammered.

Ginny quickly put her hand over his mouth. "If you dare apologise for that, I'll never speak to you again, Harry Potter," she said seriously.

"Then you're not upset?" he asked.

"How could I be upset by that?" she gasped. "I'm just surprised, that's all… I—I didn't know you felt that way about me."

"Neither did I," he said truthfully. "Ginny?" he asked hesitantly.

"Hummm?" she asked lazily, staring at him with heavily lidded eyes.

"Can we do that again?"

Instead of answering, she pulled him close and effectively rendered him speechless.


	11. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Chapter Eleven**

"**One Step Forward, Two Steps Back" **

Harry and Ginny eventually pulled themselves away from each other. "Maybe we'd better go back downstairs," he said, knowing he didn't really want to.

"Yeah," she agreed. Her freckled face mirrored his uncertainty. "Maybe that _would_ be best…"

Wild thoughts ran through Harry's head as they reluctantly straightened themselves up. Would the people downstairs be able to tell what had happened between Ginny and him… that his whole world had flipped upside down in those few minutes he had been with her? Should they even tell anyone?

Cold panic swept over him. How would her brothers react when they found out that he and Ginny had been snogging in his bedroom - on his bed, no less! They'd kill him.

He caught hold of her and embraced her tightly, not wanting the moment to be lost. She sighed and looked up at him. "Harry, what are we going to tell people?"

"What do you mean?" He knew what she was referring to because he had been thinking the same thing, but he was stalling for time because he didn't know what to tell her.

"About this… us," she said, cocking her head and looking up at him curiously. Her gaze hardened suddenly. "What is this to you, Harry? How do you really feel about me?"

"I don't know what this is, Ginny," he said honestly, "but I really want to find out. I—I've never felt this way about _anyone_ before." He paused as he noticed the relief wash over her, and contemplated his next move. He didn't want to screw this up. "What do _you_ want to tell people?"

She paused before answering. "How about we just keep this between the two of us for now?" she said, much to Harry's relief. "Just until we figure some things out."

He nodded, relieved. He'd like to keep this one thing to himself for now, if at all possible. It was the first good thing he'd had in a long while and he didn't want to ruin it by having to explain something he didn't understand. It would take some of the magic away, and he wanted to savour every minute of this time with her.

Prolonging the inevitable, they couldn't resist each other and exchanged another long kiss before leaving the safety of Harry's room. Neither found themselves holding back as they explored each other's mouths with a ferocity that threatened to delay them even longer. Apparently he was getting good at this kissing stuff, judging from Ginny's reaction. He could feel her practically melt against him and some part of him loved the power he had over her when they were together like this. It was intoxicating to know he could make someone else feel the same kinds of things he was feeling.

They broke apart and Ginny gasped. "Harry, I think we need to go now…" They were so close he could feel her heart beating against his chest.

He didn't answer her because he didn't want to go. His body felt weak and he leaned into her heavily, breathing hard, resting his forehead against hers.

"Ummm… Harry?" she said hesitantly, her own breath coming in short gasps.

"Huh?"

"If we don't leave soon, I may never find the strength to say it again." Her soft brown eyes pleaded with him to understand.

Harry suddenly came to his senses and saw he had pinned her up against the door during their last contact. In fact, he was practically crushing her with his body. He flushed with embarrassment and jumped away, immediately beginning to fret that she would think him too aggressive. He didn't know what had come over him so suddenly that he could back her against a door and not even realise it, but he felt drawn to her like a magnet. It was the most wonderful, intense feeling he had ever had.

"Sorry…"

"That's all right. I don't mind, really." Instead of moving away, she pulled him close and leaned her forehead onto his chest. He heard her muffled groan and knew she was fighting the same feelings. "But as much as I want to stay here with you, I think we do need to go back."

"You're probably right…" he agreed despondently.

As she reached to open the door Harry suddenly stopped her, overcome with a need to express to her how much their time together had helped him.

"Ginny…" he began hesitantly. Not knowing how to say what he was feeling, he simply stammered, "Thanks for everything – for making me feel better and all. You know… earlier…" He pointed to his scar so she would know he wasn't just talking about the snogging. "No one has ever done anything like that for me before."

"Any time, Harry," she replied with a slow smile. "I'd do anything for you. You know that, right?"

He nodded, too choked up to trust his voice. To distract himself he let his mind wander, wondering how long it would be before he would manage to get her alone again. He definitely wasn't looking forward to the questions he was sure to get when they returned to the rest of the group. In this room with Ginny things were simple. Here, he was just a boy who was infatuated with a girl. But he knew it couldn't last.

Together they trudged down the stairs, hand in hand. As soon as they reached the bottom they reluctantly broke apart, knowing that being seen together holding hands would create too many questions they were not ready to answer. Unfortunately, the twins immediately accosted them as they made their way down the hallway towards the kitchen and past the little cupboard that had started it all.

George was the first to speak. "Fred and I were just coming to find you two. How're you feeling, mate?"

Harry silently thanked his lucky stars that he and Ginny had decided to come downstairs when they had. What would Fred and George have done to him if they had found Harry with their little sister upstairs in the compromising position they had been in earlier?

"I'm fine now. Just the normal Voldemort stuff. It's passed." The twins were looking at him doubtfully but he didn't think they'd like hearing how he had almost lost control and hurt their sister. Truthfully, that thought was beginning to worry him. What if it happened again? What if Voldemort actually managed to hurt Ginny or one of his friends through him? How could he live with himself?

"Normal, huh?" Fred said. "If that's normal for you, then you need help."

"Yeah, mate. We have bruises that say that was definitely _not_ normal," George said good-naturedly, rubbing his arm where a large welt was peeking out from under his sleeve.

"And Ron got the worst of it. He's in the kitchen getting some TLC from Hermione right now." Fred and George exchanged knowing smirks. "I'm sure he'll thank you later." They did not seem to notice Harry's troubled expression.

"I'm really sorry about that-" he started to say, but George cut him off.

"Not your fault..." he said, waving his apology off. "Ron explained what happened, and we're used to your unique qualities by now. No worries. Hermione told everyone you got jolted by that elecktricity stuff, but that you'd be fine once the shock wore off. They seemed to buy it, but we've been busy keeping that Claire girl from slipping off to find you – especially when Ron and Hermione came down over twenty minutes ago."

Fred raised his eyebrow at the two of them questioningly. "Just what were you two doing up there all alone this whole time?"

Harry flushed bright pink, but Ginny remained calm. "Not that it's any of your business, but Harry and I were having a serious talk about how he needs to take better care of himself." She caught Harry's eye. "I think he'll listen to reason from now on, won't you Harry?"

"Right…" he stammered. He didn't know what to say because Fred and George obviously weren't buying it. They surprised him, though, by dropping the matter when Ginny gave them a very pointed look.

"Well, with all the drama going on here tonight, we thought it would be nice to liven up the party," Fred told him hopefully.

"Yeah," George chimed in. "This party is sinking fast."

"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked carefully, knowing Fred and George's ideas were often outrageous.

"How about a dance contest?"

Ginny's face lit up. "Oh, that sounds like fun!"

Harry frowned. "I don't know…"

"Aw, come on Harry…" George said persuasively. "It'll be great! And no magic involved at all."

"Please?" all three pleaded.

Harry could say no, especially when Ginny looked at him like that. "You'll have to clear it with Dudley," he warned amidst cheers from the three Weasleys. "Good luck on that…" but his sarcasm was drowned out by the racket Fred, George, and Ginny were making. Secretly, he hoped Dudley would say no.

But Dudley didn't say no. Fred and George, the master manipulators, knew just what to do to get him to agree. They corralled Claire in the hallway and convinced _her_ to ask Dudley for them. Harry couldn't believe they had even thought of it, and was impressed despite his reluctance to take part in anything involving dancing.

As he assimilated himself back into the group he noticed many of his friends look at him with concern. They probably suspected that his collapse in the cupboard had to do with Voldemort. Most of them had either heard the rumours or been present for an attack. They kept shooting him odd, sympathetic looks but did not ask him questions.

The Muggles were a different story. All the girls wanted to know how Harry had managed to electrocute himself, and if he was feeling better now. Claire was especially concerned, and tried her best to comfort him even though he made it clear he was not interested.

"I still think you should be in hospital," she fussed as she handed him another drink.

"How many times do I have to say it? I'm fine," he mumbled irritably.

He was beginning to lose some of the happy feeling he had earlier. However, one glance at Ginny across the room, who was blushing at something Hermione was whispering to her, and all the good feelings returned with a vengeance. He had that longing again to be locked upstairs in his room with her and snogging her senseless. Growing flustered at the thought, he shooed Claire away and turned his attention back to the party.

Piers was flirting with that girl, Daphne, whom Claire had introduced but Harry did not know. Her friend, Mary, was laughing at something Malcolm was saying. Harry could not imagine anything that Malcolm could say that would be intelligent enough for someone to find funny.

Harry was amused to see Ron trying not to look at Hermione but failing miserably. His eye was looking slightly better since Hermione had applied the ice, but it still made Harry feel horrible to know that he had been the cause of it. He hadn't yet had the courage to approach either Ron or Hermione since returning.

Meanwhile, Katie and Lee were conferencing with the twins, helping them decide how to best arrange the room for the dancing. The other girls were still talking amiably, and Gordon and Dennis were refreshing their drinks. Harry noticed with mild trepidation that the amount of alcohol had diminished significantly.

Harry was pleased to note that Ginny kept glancing over at him and had a tendency to turn slightly pink whenever their eyes met. Harry was finding her blushes very appealing, especially knowing what she might be thinking. He hoped desperately that she wanted to sneak away with him as much as he wanted to sneak away with her.

Shaking off his desire to be alone with Ginny, Harry was about to join Ron and apologize for his behaviour upstairs when Fred suddenly clapped his hands for attention.

"Excuse me!" he yelled loudly over the blaring music. "Could someone please turn that down?"

Piers grimaced in irritation but moved to decrease the volume. All eyes in the room turned to Fred who was standing on Aunt Petunia's coffee table.

"That's better," Fred said in a normal voice. "We thought this party needed some excitement-"

"-so we came up with the idea of organizing a friendly little competition," George said, completing his sentence.

"What kind of competition?" someone yelled – Harry couldn't see who, but he thought it was one of the Claire's friends.

"A dance competition," Dudley said loudly, apparently trying to take control of the situation and appear as if he was in charge. Harry knew he was fighting an internal battle between not wanting to look foolish in front of his friends and staying clear of the witches and wizards.

Everyone seemed to really like the idea. "Who's going to judge?" Lee called out.

"And what are the rules? Is this a partner thing, or individual?" Mary asked.

"We don't have enough room in here to have everyone dance at once," Fred said, "so Katie came up with the idea to partner up with someone and have everyone else act as the judges. We'll vote and keep score based on the amount of applause each pair gets. The goal is to have fun, kiddies, so we want this to be as light and carefree as possible. Does anyone have any objections to that?"

Dudley and Piers looked as if they did, but Claire spoke up first. "I choose Harry as my partner!"

All eyes turned as one to him. He wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor, but everyone seemed to want him to answer.

"Er… no, I'm not much of a dancer," he stammered.

"Nonsense!" Claire said, making her way through the crowd to stand in front of him. "I'm sure you're a lovely dancer."

"Really, I'm not," he insisted. He felt a keen sense of panic grab hold of him at even the _thought_ of dancing in front of others. "Besides… I'm still not feeling well, er... you know… from the shock."

Claire's face clouded with sympathy. "Oh, you poor thing – I almost forgot. Of course you don't feel like competing. You need to rest, don't you?" She ran her hand up his arm seductively.

Harry swallowed hard. He felt his panic increase and he didn't dare look over to where he knew Ginny was standing. He could only imagine the look on her face right now.

"Yes, that's right," he said quickly. "I'm sure Dudley would love to partner with you, though." He looked over to his cousin, who was turning purple.

"Actually, I was going to ask Daphne," Dudley said curtly. Harry supposed Claire choosing him first was just too much of a blow to Dudley's ego.

Daphne agreed to partner Dudley, and the group quickly began to pair up. It was no surprise that Fred and Angelina decided to relive their performance at the Yule Ball, which was legendary. Katie agreed to partner with Piers, and Malcolm asked Mary. George asked one of the twins, and Lee asked Alicia. Claire found herself stuck with Dennis – much to her displeasure, judging from the way she turned her nose up at him – for a moment it looked as if she was going to ask Ron, but Hermione had quickly moved in and beat her to it. Ron flushed red and Harry about fell over when he agreed. That left Ginny, the other Muggle twin, and Gordon without partners.

But Ginny was gone. Just as Audra agreed to pair up with Gordon, Harry saw she was nowhere to be seen. No one else seemed to notice. Everyone in the living room with the exception of Harry was noisily looking through the music, picking out song selections, and going over moves. Quietly, he ducked out the door in search of her.

It didn't take long to find her. She was on the back patio, looking up at the stars.

"Ginny?" he said quietly as he slipped out the door. He heard the concern in his own voice. "Why'd you leave?"

He was surprised to hear her sniffle slightly and swipe at her face. She turned to him with a bright smile, but he could see the sadness in her eyes.

"I just needed some air," she said, trying to pretend nothing was wrong.

"Why are you crying?" He moved to put his arms around her but she backed away. He stared at her in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she said stiffly.

"You're lying."

"Am I?" she said angrily. "Are you sure about that, Harry? What makes you an expert on me all of a sudden? Just because we shared a good snog earlier, now all of a sudden you know what I'm thinking!"

Harry recoiled from the venom in her voice, but he found himself getting angry at her tone. He wasn't blind. Any fool could see she was hurt. "Well, if you're not upset, then why are you crying?" he retorted sharply.

He wasn't prepared for the onslaught. Ginny turned on him angrily, fire burning in her eyes. "Maybe I _am_ upset, Harry! Maybe you're right..." She laughed bitterly. "Yes, of course you're right! What am I thinking? You're bloody _Harry_ _Potter_!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked angrily.

She swore under her breath and threw up her hands in frustration. "I don't know what I expected," she said sadly. "This will never work. I was fooling myself into believing it was even possible."

He grabbed hold of her and forced her to look at him. The intensity of the contact was beyond reason, and he felt an attraction for her at that was unsettling. He looked into her eyes and felt himself drowning… Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

"Why don't you tell me what you expected?" he said in a low voice.

"I- I just hoped you'd acknowledge me, Harry," she said brokenly. Her eyes were wet and full of pain. "Just bloody _once_."

He was confused. "You're the one who wanted to keep this thing between us quiet," he reminded her.

"And some part of me still wants to keep you all to myself," she told him. "But another part of me just wanted you to tell Claire to bugger off because you were already taken, even though I know I have no right to feel that way."

Harry smiled. "You're jealous," he said, very relieved that it was nothing more than that.

Her eyes flashed. "Yes, I'm jealous! Claire is a beautiful girl and she obviously wants you very badly."

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "But I want _you_." He couldn't believe his own bravado. It was testament to how much she had changed him in such a short time. A few hours ago he could not have imagined himself saying anything remotely like that to _anyone_, let alone Ginny.

He felt her shiver at his words. Her eyes turned upward to look at him, full of amazement and disbelief. "You- you do?"

He nodded and pulled her into his arms. Some kind of soft music was wafting in from the party. It was the kind of music that had just enough tempo to dance to, but not so much that it would be considered fast; it was a song for lovers. As he held her, he found himself listening to the music and swaying a bit, caught up in the feel of the girl in his arms. He could stand here all night like this, holding her and swaying to the music. It was perfect.

She tilted her head again and looked up at him. "Harry… do you realise that we're dancing?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I'm just… I dunno… holding you and moving to the music." He regarded her doubtfully. "I'd hardly call that dancing."

She swung away from him and did a fancy little move that had Harry's jaw dropping wide open. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Sirius. Last summer when we were at Grimmauld Place we used to goof off while we cleaned. He liked to spin me around and around like a top, then laugh his head off when I keeled over. It was mostly out of boredom on both our parts, but it made the drudgery fun."

Harry's stomach dropped at the mention of Sirius. "I wish I could have seen that side of him more. I'll always remember him roaming up and down the halls singing _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs _at the top of his lungs last Christmas holiday. I think… never mind."

She was back in his arms again, swaying to the music. The tune had changed, but neither noticed.

"What were you going to say?" she asked curiously.

Harry was silent for a moment. He had never said this out loud before, and he wasn't certain how it would sound. "I think he would have been a great person to grow up with. I was really hoping we could have the chance to get to know each other better." He couldn't keep the wistfulness out of his voice, even though he tried. He'd hate it if Ginny thought he was weak.

She squeezed his arm tenderly. "I know… I saw you and him together over the summer and at Christmas. It was like a piece of you that was missing was fit into place when he was around… kind of like a jigsaw puzzle. He helped fill the gaps in your life."

"Yeah…" He couldn't look at her, so he stared off at nothing over her left shoulder. He could feel the lump returning and he tried to push it down.

Ginny obviously noticed how stiff he had become because she said, "I won't mention him anymore, if you like."

He shook his head and made an effort to dance more normally. "No, that's okay. I don't mind, really. I'd rather remember him laughing and having fun than… well, you know."

"Yeah."

They continued to dance in silence as a few more songs were played. Eventually the beat of the changing music got them doing silly things like a horrible parody of the tango and an awkward but hilarious waltz. They were having so much fun that they didn't see Ron and Hermione standing just inside the door until they laughed. Harry jumped away from Ginny self-consciously but immediately regretted it when he saw her frown.

"I think he's feeling better, Hermione," Ron said sarcastically sending Harry and Ginny a sly smile.

Harry was relieved to note his behaviour earlier had been forgiven. Both Ron and Hermione looked relieved he wasn't yelling, and he knew it would be pointless to say something to them by way of an apology. It didn't feel like the right time. They had obviously forgiven him and he knew he could apologize later, when they were alone.

Hermione struggled to hide her glee. "I agree. They do look quite cosy together, don't you think, Ron? I'd say Harry is feeling _loads_ better, and it's about time, too."

Trying to deflect the attention from him, Harry countered with a sideways look at Ginny. "Are my ears failing or did they actually agree on something?"

Ginny grinned. "Nope, I heard it too."

"Honestly, you two," Hermione said, stamping her foot, "we're not that bad!"

"Yes you are," Harry and Ginny said together, and then broke out in laughter which spilled over to the other pair.

"Well… not usually," Hermione giggled, looking at Ron.

"She just hates to admit that I'm not a total dunce," Ron chuckled good-naturedly.

"I do _not_ think you are a dunce, Ronald Weasley!"

"She's right on that one," Ginny teased. "I think her exact words were 'thick as a caldron bottom.'

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped. "I did _not_ say that! I'd never-"

Ginny shrugged. "Okay… maybe it was me that said it. Still true, though."

Ron punched her in the arm. "I'll show you thick!" he said as he pounced on her and began his obligatory brotherly torture. She laughed and tried to fend him off as he tickled her mercilessly.

"Stop! I'm sorry, okay? I meant to say… thick as one of _Percy's_ cauldron bottoms!" she laughed as she tried to twist free.

"Oh you'll pay for that, little sister!" Ron said as he doubled his efforts, much to Harry and Hermione's amusement.

"Don't just stand there, Harry!" Ginny yelled out, laughing. "I thought you were the hero… so help me already!" she shrieked.

Harry smiled wickedly. His eyes twinkled as he shrugged his shoulders and looked sideways at Hermione. "I've been told I have a 'saving people thing' and I'm trying to change my ways. Sorry, Ginny."

"Ooo… I'll get you for that, Harry Potter!" Ginny squealed as she tried to dodge Ron, who was laughing so hard he was having a time catching her. They were playing cat and mouse around the patio furniture now. She stopped suddenly and shot Ron a meaningful look. "I think it's time certain others joined the fun, don't you dear brother?"

As if reading her mind, Ron turned suddenly and lunged for Hermione leaving Ginny free to chase Harry down and tackle him; it left them both tumbling in the grass, laughing hysterically.

"Too late, Ginevra," Harry said out of breathe. He laughed merrily as he lay on his back in the grass. Ginny was next to him, also laughing and trying to catch her breath. "I've already been gotten," he said, flashing her a wicked smile.

Ginny's eyes widened at his words and she pulled herself up to look at him. "Who told you my full name? No one knows that but…" Her angry eyes swerved to Ron, who was still chasing Hermione.

"Wrong brother," he said, his eyes still twinkling with mirth. "It was Bill, actually. I don't remember how it came up but I do remember thinking that it suited you. It's very girlie and feminine… just like you." He felt his face flush in embarrassment. Why was he saying these stupid things? Maybe someone had slipped him Veritaserum in one of his drinks. He could hear Hermione and Ron talking quietly on the other side of the garden, having apparently also abandoned their battle for the moment, but couldn't see them from this vantage point. Then they were suddenly very quiet. Almost too quiet, really.

Ginny raised her eyebrow, and he forgot all about Ron and Hermione. "Am I supposed to be complimented or insulted?" she deadpanned.

He leaned over and kissed her on the lips reverently, not caring who saw him. "Complimented. Definitely."

Ginny grinned under his lips. "I think I like compliments."

"Me, too. Would you care for more?" he said, practically daring her.

"Absolutely."

* * *

It was a long time before any of them found their way back to the house and by then the dance contest was over. Fred and Angelina were the clear winners and Claire was nursing a sore toe where Dennis had trod on her foot. Everyone now looked relaxed and comfortable with each other with the exception of Dudley, of course. He was sitting sullenly in the corner, throwing the Weasley brothers dirty looks every chance he got but even he looked less uncomfortable with the situation.

In fact, Harry saw his cousin actually giving the witches in the group appreciatively glances when he thought they weren't paying attention. Inwardly Harry laughed as he imagined what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's reaction might be if Dudley ever hooked up with one of Harry's "freak friends" and settled down to have little witches and wizards. It would serve them right, Harry thought, to have a magical daughter-in-law and magical grandchildren. He just wished he could live long enough to see something like that happen.

A cold chill swept over him as he looked around the group. If Voldemort had anything to say about it, everyone in this room would be dead. He could never allow that to happen; coming after him was one thing, but his friends deserved to live their lives freely without the threat of death hanging over them. Trying to quell his current train of thought, he looked around for his abandoned drink and spied it by the chair he had been sitting in earlier. His thoughts once again dark, he sat down as the party raged around him. Ginny was congratulating Fred and Angelina and didn't notice his abrupt change of mood. Taking a long sip, he wished with all his might he was just an ordinary teenager with ordinary problems. So caught up in all this, he missed someone sidling up behind him.

"Why so glum, Harry?" Claire said near his ear. "Did you have an argument with your little girlfriend over there?" She nodded towards Ginny.

"She's not my girlfriend," Harry said lamely. It was true – he has never asked Ginny to be his girlfriend, officially. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to admit to Claire that he and Ginny were an item now. He didn't really care about Claire's reaction one way or another, but it didn't feel right saying that to Claire before he said anything to Ginny.

Claire pursed her lips and gave him a critical look then winked. "Sure, she's not. But it doesn't matter to me, Harry, if she is – I'm used to fighting for what I want…"

She reached over to tousle his hair and Harry moved away, but he had to fight a shiver of something he couldn't name and didn't understand. He glanced over at Ginny anxiously, who was watching them with a frown but not coming over to intervene. His eyes met Claire's blue ones and he saw the determined look imprinted there. In a small way he was fascinated and flattered, even curious. He knew he liked Ginny much better, but he had never had anyone be this forward with him before, and he briefly allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to kiss Claire Smith. Would it be passionate like Ginny, hesitant like Cho, or entirely different?

Her blue eyes bore into his, sending him a message. Her parting words left no doubt in Harry's mind that this thing with Claire was not over and wouldn't be for awhile. As she walked away from him, she glanced back, her blond hair shining in the lamplight. With another wink she whispered, so only he could hear, "…and I usually win."

Harry's eyes trailed with her as she sauntered away confidently, graceful even with a sore toe. He felt confused. Part of him was tempted to take Claire up on her offer – wanted to run after her and see what exactly she had to offer – yet at the same time the thought of it turned his stomach. What was wrong with him? It was as if he were two people having two separate modes of thought. He nervously fingered his glass and then took another sip, hoping to calm his nerves and gain some clarity about his mixed-up feelings. Something felt different, but he couldn't place his finger on what, exactly it was.

"All right, mate?" Ron said, startling him so much that he sloshed drink all over his leg.

"Yeah," he said, mopping up the mess. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ron shrugged and took a sip from his own drink, avoiding Harry's eyes. Suddenly, Harry understood.

"About that," Harry said. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier, and for hurting you. I don't know why I said those things." He had a hard time meeting Ron's eyes, but forced himself to even though his best mate's eyes were full of sympathy and compassion. He didn't feel like he deserved it at the moment, especially after the thoughts he had just had about Claire.

Ron shrugged again. "S'okay, Harry. It gave me and 'Mione a chance to… talk." He blushed crimson.

Harry smiled. "I take it you two came to an understanding, then."

Ron grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Yep. And I take it you and Ginny had a nice talk too, huh?"

Harry grinned widely now, his previously thoughts of Claire forgotten. "Yep."

"Thought so," Ron said, sounding very self-satisfied.

Their conversation was interrupted by Fred and George, who had once again taken centre stage.

"Okay, ladies and gents, it's time to move on to a new game," Fred said loudly, gathering everyone's attention. Harry narrowed his eyes curiously, wondering what they were up to now. They hadn't mentioned anything else about another activity, and from the looks of it, Dudley was just as clueless.

"We have been looking for the perfect opportunity to unveil our latest invention, guaranteed to amaze and astound you!" George told the group theatrically.

"What is it?" someone asked curiously.

"This!" George said, pulling a small glass ball out of his pocket. Harry paled. It looked just like the ball that contained the prophecies at the Department of Mysteries. Unwillingly, his mind raced back to that night and everything that had happened there.

"The Orb of Truth!" Fred said dramatically. Inside the ball was a faint mist that glowed and swirled, just like the one he had tried to protect with his life. "Inside this glass ball, you'll find your destiny!"

His mind spun out of control. Part of him wanted to take the sphere and run off with it; he would not be denied what was rightfully his any longer! He felt the rage stir inside him and shuddered because it was unconnected to him and he knew instinctively that it was the snake – Voldemort – who was thinking and feeling these things. He fought it off and was rewarded with a woozy sort of dizziness, as if he were about to pass out. Panic took him as he tried to fight to stay in control, but it was no use. He passed out.

A/N: Special thanks to Arnel for Beta reading this chapter and to all of you out there who have taken the time to leave a review. If you leave your email address, I will be sure to get back to you with specific questions.


	12. The Orb of Truth

**The Orb of Truth**

As Harry came to, he could hear Hermione yelling to the twins, "Put that thing away, now!" Other than her voice, the room was dead quiet, save for the faint music still playing on the stereo. The image of the small glass ball came to his mind again, and he fought to breathe. "Don't you see it's upsetting him?" Hermione hissed.

Through his haze, Harry saw Fred quickly stowed the glass ball out of sight and he felt much better now that it was gone. "What was that thing," he mumbled groggily. "For a moment I thought…"

"Harry," Ginny asked softly as she bent over him, "are you all right?"

He tried to say that he was fine, but the words would not form. All he wanted to do was retch.

George was the first to speak. "What's wrong?" he asked, voicing the thought that was on everyone's mind. "Why'd he pass out?"

"Is he ill? Or maybe it's that shock." Claire said to no one in particular. "I told you lot he needed to go to hospital."

Instead of answering, Hermione asked Fred, "May I see that orb?"

"Sure," Fred said, shrugging as he handed it over to her.

Looking up, Harry watched as he handed it over. A fresh wave of panic caused him to turn away violently and squeeze his eyes shut. He felt the snake inside him again and it terrified him, but he frantically tried to push him back down. He was losing his mind, and Voldemort was so happy…

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron asked, looking at Harry, his voice a mixture of fear and worry.

"Does this remind you of something?" she asked, looking pointedly at Ron and Ginny.

Ginny looked up from her vantage point on the floor next to Harry and gasped. She had just made the connection between the glass ball and the Department of Mysteries.

Ron, however, was a bit daft. "What?"

"Think, Ron," Hermione said, exasperated. "What happened in June? What does this remind you of?"

"Oh!" Ron said, shocked. Harry looked up in time to see him take a step back.

"Will someone please fill us in on what this is all about?" Dudley whined plaintively. "I know my cousin is a… Nancy boy," he said with disgust, causing Harry's head to snap up, "but why on Earth would _anyone_ be afraid of a little glass ball?"

"I am _not_ afraid," he told Dudley with deadly calm, his eyes blazing intensely.

"Could have fooled me," Dudley sneered. "Wonder if it has anything to do with your boyfriend, Cedric…" he taunted. "That's who you call out to at night, isn't it? Or is Sirius your new lover? I've heard his name before—"

There was a collective gasp from several of the teenagers at the mention on Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, and Harry's nightmares. All the witches and wizards in the room knew exactly what Dudley was talking about, but they couldn't believe anyone apart from Draco Malfoy would be so cruel as to taunt Harry about it - much less someone Harry was related to.

Dudley did not get the chance to finish his sentence before Harry was on top of him, pounding him with all the force he could muster. How dare he say Sirius' name! He knew _nothing_ of Sirius.

Dudley was so shocked he didn't even fight back. As if from a distance, Harry heard someone yelling "Shut up", "How dare you say his name!" and "I hate you!" He did not realise that it was him doing the yelling.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being forcibly pulled off Dudley by several of the red-heads in the room. Dudley was being consoled by Claire, who was looking at Harry like he was mad. Dudley's gang looked ready to kill.

"Don't even think about it," George said to the younger Muggle boys, staring Piers straight in the eye. Fred, Ron, and Lee came up from behind him to back him up. Together, the Weasley brothers and Lee Jordan made an intimidating sight, even without wands. There was something to be said for the Weasley temper, and all the boys had grown recently.

Ginny turned back to Harry as soon as she knew the situation was in hand. "Are you all right, Harry?" she asked, her voice evident that she was very worried about him. Hermione bent down as well.

"Yeah… Yeah," he said panted, mastering his emotions at last. "I'm fine. He just… shouldn't have said that about Sirius is all." Harry looked over at Dudley, who was nursing a cut lip, with pure hatred. Deal or no, Dudley could not get away with taunting him about those things – not ever!

"Well," Fred said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "Perhaps a game is not what we need right now…."

"No," Harry said emphatically, catching his breath at last. "I'm fine now. It just startled me is all." He looked over at Ron, Ginny, and Hermione who were looking at him with sympathy and concern. "I'll be fine… really…"

"Harry," Hermione said in her typical motherly voice, "I don't think this is a good idea at the moment…. You need to rest."

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed. "Maybe some other time." But he clearly sounded to Harry as if he was doubtful that another time would come.

"I'm fine!" Harry insisted, stubbornly. "I am _not_ a Nancy boy! Where is that orb thing? I want to play."

"Harry," Ginny said hesitantly. "You don't have to do this. You certainly don't have anything to prove to us. _We_ know how brave you really are." All the Gryffindors murmured their agreement.

"I have to do this, Ginny," he snapped. "He saw that ball. He thinks it's the prophecy and he won't leave me alone until he sees for himself that it's not. I'm not going to be responsible for anyone else I care about getting killed."

"Don't you dare, Harry Potter!" Ginny retorted angrily, jerking him to look her square in the face. She wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding her. "What happened to Sirius was not your fault… I thought we'd already covered this. He knew the consequences and he was willing to die to protect you. That's what godfathers do for their godchildren."

Harry tried to protest that he was certainly not worth dying for, but didn't give him the opportunity to say it.

"I, for one," she continued passionately, "was determined to go with you that day no matter what. If you had left me in that forest, I swear I would have followed you somehow. I don't regret standing by you that day. None of us do," she said, nodding to Ron and Hermione. They nodded in agreement. More softly she said just to him, "I still owe you one, remember? You saved my life, Harry. I'd be dead if it weren't for you."

"You don't owe me anything," Harry said vehemently. "This has nothing to do with that, Ginny." Turning to Hermione he said regretfully, "You tried to warn me and I didn't listen. If I had, you wouldn't have been hurt and Ron wouldn't have those scars on his arms." He nudged his head towards Ron, who was standing beside her.

"Don't be stupid, Harry," Hermione said, exasperated. "We checked, remember? He tricked you into going. We all wanted to save Sirius because we knew how much he meant to you. Besides," she reasoned, "we held our own against full grown adults and that has everything to do with you. You taught us all that stuff and when push came to shove we were able to use that knowledge to our advantage. None of us were going to let you face Him on your own… even Neville!"

"We'd do it again in a heartbeat, mate," Ron said firmly. "Sirius felt the same. Might as well get that through your thick head – it wasn't your fault."

"But if I had only—" Harry tried to argue, his throat constricting.

"I think I speak for George and myself when I say that we would have been there, too… had we known," Fred said with conviction.

"Damn right!" George said.

"Us, too," Lee, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia all said, nodding their agreement. They obviously knew a lot more than Harry gave them credit for.

"We weren't in the DA for nothing!" Angelina told him, grinning.

Harry had never felt so grateful to have friends in his life. Looking around at the group of witches and wizards, his heart filled with hope. He looked at Dudley standing there with his stupid-looking bully friends. Piers with his rat-face screwed up in disgust and confusion, Claire and her indignant, haughty attitude… He knew without a doubt that when push came to shove, Dudley's friends would never stand by him like Harry's friends had. All of them had some inkling of the enemy that they were up against – some more than others – and yet they still chose to stick by him. What had he done to deserve such loyalty? How could they ever know how much it meant to him?

"Thanks," he managed to choke out without embarrassing himself.

Harry was immediately thrown back into reality when Dudley immediately began to laugh a cold, harsh laugh. "As touching as this is," Dudley drawled, sounding just like Malfoy on a bad day, "no one has yet given us a suitable answer for what this melodrama is all about. I, for one, think it's _histrionics_ on the part of my—" he looked Harry up and down in disdain, "cousin."

Ron stepped up to Dudley angrily, their faces inches apart. "Why don't you shut your fat face for once in your miserable life," he said threateningly. "Or I'll shut it for you!"

Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "That's all right, Ron. We don't owe anyone an explanation," he said firmly, leaving no room for discussion. Dudley could go wank himself for all Harry cared. He wasn't telling him a thing.

"Where is that orb, Fred?" Harry asked roughly, hoping to distract Ron from his anger. He'd like nothing more than to see Dudley get what he deserved, but now was not the time. He had something to prove to himself and the snake inside his mind.

"Right here," Hermione said reluctantly, producing the glass sphere from her pocket.

Harry took it out of her hand and examined it closely. It was an ordinary glass ball, sort of purplish in colour. Fred and George had said it was a truth teller. Rolling it in his hand, it felt cool to the touch and heavier than he imagined it to be. Harry wondered what truth this little glass ball held. If it was anything like the other, then he would rather not find out.

Remembering that it was a harmless toy and not a matter of life and death, Harry handed the ball to George and asked, "So, what do we do?"

"First we need to get in a circle," George said, directing everyone to gather around.

"We will not!" Dudley said angrily. "You're not allowed to use that… that _stuff_ here! I'll tell Dad and you'll be chucked out for sure this time, Potter!"

Harry looked Dudley straight in the eye. "What stuff, Dudley? We're just about to play an innocent little game here at your innocent little _party_."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a little glass ball, Dursley!" Ron taunted him.

"No more than my dear _cousin_," Dudley said defiantly.

"Come on Dudders," Claire cooed. "I want to play. I sounds like fun." She sat down on the floor and patted the place next to her. "You can sit right here beside me," she said invitingly.

Harry almost laughed as Dudley's attitude did an about-face. He couldn't believe it when Dudley gave in and reluctantly joined Claire on the carpet, motioning for the other Muggles to join him, although he complained the whole time about being told what to do in his own home. One by one all the teenagers in the room sat down in a circle. Harry was glad to see most of the Muggles bringing along their various drinks. Harry hoped their alcohol consumption was high enough to fool them into not noticing anything strange about Fred and George's game. He was glad to see that most of his friends were alcohol free, with the exception of the older witches and wizards. Neither Ginny, Ron, nor Hermione had any drinks in their hands. Ginny took a place next to Harry and, as inconspicuously as possible, slipped her empty hand in his. He smiled at her gratefully.

"Okay… I'm going to pass the Orb around and each person will read whatever it says," George explained, somewhat uncomfortably. "Everyone in the circle must hold it in order for it to read the secrets of your mind," he said mysteriously. "When it's finished, the Orb will glow pink and we can begin our journey for truth!" George looked at the ball and said loudly in his best imitation of Trelawney, "Begin!" Then he passed the Orb to his right.

As Angelina read the first line, Harry took a deep, calming breath and listened. _"You hold the Orb of Truth,"_ Angelina read before passed it to Katie.

"_No secret can you hide,"_ Katie recited, passing it to Andrea.

"_Touch this sphere to seek it,"_ Andrea read before passing it to her sister.

"_Your subconscious tells no lie,"_ Audra read. She passed the Orb to Lee.

"_Beware you brave of heart,"_ Lee grinned. "Well, we are Gryffindors, aren't we?" He passed it to Piers.

"_Take heed, my warning dire… _What a load of rubbish!" Piers scoffed before passing it to Claire.

"_Wrong guesses you may make,"_ she read clearly before passing it to Dudley.

"_And suffer fate's desire,"_ he read. He snorted, "Pretty bad poetry, if you ask me." Dudley passed it on to Daphne.

"Now what?" Daphne asked George. "It's blank but it's still purple."

"Just pass it around," George told her.

As the Orb travelled around the circle, Ginny leaned in to whisper to Harry. "Better poetry than 'His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad,'" she snorted. "At least their verse is improving!"

"What do you mean?" Harry whispered back incredulously, thinking of his second year and being serenaded by a cupid-clad dwarf. "I thought you—"

Ginny shook her head looking aghast at the thought. "_Malfoy_ was the one who made you believe that. I was young, Harry, but not stupid. Oh, I thought about sending you a Valentine, all right, and they knew it, too! 'We'll take care of everything, Gin-Gin' they said," she snorted again. "I pleaded with them not to, but they wouldn't listen. Why do you think I was so upset? I like a good joke as much as the next person, Harry, but they went too far that day. I was so humiliated!" She grinned impishly. "But they paid, trust me – they paid!"

She suddenly became serious. "Remember when that dwarf tackled you and your books fell out? That's when I saw you with Tom's diary. One of the worst days of my life up to that point…." She fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt. "I was sure you'd hate me if you ever found out."

Harry was reminded of the vulnerable eleven-year-old he had known in his second year at Hogwarts. He looked deeply into her eyes. There was so much soul in them, he thought he might drown in their depth. "I could never hate you," he said, meaning it with all his heart. _But,_ he thought sadly as the orb made contact with his hand, _you may just hate me when I have to become a murderer_.

She smiled somewhat, but still seemed lost in her own tortured thoughts as Harry passed the small glass ball to her. Slowly, the Orb made its way around the circle until it came back to George. Upon reaching him, it suddenly glowed pink.

"It's finished reading your minds," Fred announced, his voice wispy and mysterious like George's had been.

"That is amazing!" Claire said, taking a large swig of whatever she was drinking. Clearly she was getting tipsy. "I didn't even see where the batteries go!"

Harry shifted slightly, but fought the urge to jump up and run away. He had a terrible feeling about this.

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" Fred said grinning, looking Dudley straight in the eye. "It's magic!" Dudley turned a deep shade of puce.

"There's no such thing as magic," Dudley mumbled weakly, glancing nervously at his friends. They didn't seem to be suspicious, however. Most were too busy taking swigs of their own drinks to pay attention to the trivial conversation going on around them. Harry supposed the _Befuddlement_ charm was doing its job.

"What happens now, Fred?" Hermione asked, plainly wanting to steer the conversation back to safer ground. Harry could see her eying the Muggles closely as well for signs of suspicion.

"Well," Fred said slowly. "I'm not sure. This is part of what we haven't worked out yet."

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked shrilly. "I thought you said it was tested!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Hermione," George spoke up. "What he means is we haven't made up the rules for who goes first."

"I think it should be the youngest, but George thinks it should be the next in line," Fred clarified.

"I'll settle that," Ginny said, sounding annoyed. "Are all of you 16?" she asked the group. "Besides, you, Harry," she said, looking at the dark-haired boy beside her who made her stomach do flip-flops. "I know you'll turn 16 at the end of the month, and you're just over a year older than me which probably makes me the youngest here."

"Anyone?" George asked the group. Everyone shook their head. "Guess you're the lucky winner, Gin-Gin," he teased, rolling the ball to her.

"Lucky me!" she said sarcastically. "What do I do?" she asked.

"Just say _'reveal,'_" Fred told her.

"Cool!" Dennis exclaimed. "Its voice activated, too!"

"Of course," George said with no trace of modesty. Harry thought he really sounded like he knew what Dennis meant by that, although he seriously doubted he did.

"Reveal," Ginny repeated, rolling her eyes at her brother's behaviour. Immediately words formed inside the ball. _"Who is the one who dreamed of kissing Professor Snape?"_ Ginny laughed out loud. "Whoever it is, I can understand why they'd keep _that_ a secret!" All the Hogwarts students laughed.

Surveying the group, Ginny thought out loud. "Let's see… it has to be someone that goes to Hogwarts, because only one of us would know what a great sin it is to dream of kissing Snape, the greasy git," she mused, earning a laugh from Harry and several others.

"It's probably a girl… although I suppose it doesn't have to be," she chuckled.

"Ugh!" Ron said, making a face and earning a laugh from most. "That's sick, Ginny!"

"That leaves Hermione, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia," Ginny deduced. Looking at the girls in question carefully, Ginny noticed Katie getting very red.

"Katie," she said clearly. The orb glowed green.

"Right," Fred said with approval. "Good use of your Inner Eye, little sister!"

"You actually dreamed of kissing Snape?" Alicia asked Katie sympathetically.

"It was more like a nightmare," Katie explained. "Right after a particular nasty detention with him... One minute I was dreaming about kissing Roger Davis and the next I was snogging Snape!" she shuddered. "I couldn't look at him for a week!"

"OK, Ginny," George instructed. "Pass it to someone. Since you answered right, you're off the hook… for now." He grinned mischievously.

"How did it know that?" Daphne gasped, impressed. "That's... that's amazing!"

"I told you," Fred said with a grin, "it's magic." As Fred said this, Dudley promptly choked on his drink, making Claire whack him hard on the back and everyone else forget all about the details of how the game was working.

Ginny passed the ball to Hermione who was sitting close to her. "Reveal," Hermione said clearly.

"_Who is the one who was caught kissing in the library?"_ she read. "I have no clue."

"Just take a guess," Fred said, trying not to smile.

"Well, I don't remember anything about anyone being caught snogging in our school library. Madame Pince would be in St. Mungo's if that happened!" Looking around, she frowned. "It could be anyone… Oh, this is impossible!" she complained.

"Just take a guess…" Ron said impatiently.

"Fine!" she huffed. "You there," she said pointing to Dudley's second in command. "What's your name again?"

"Piers," the pointy-faced boy said, looking offended that she didn't remember.

"You're looking shifty. Is it Piers?" Hermione asked. The Orb turned red.

"Nope, sorry," George said. "Now tell us what it says."

Hermione looked down at the orb and read the words silently. "No way!" she squealed. "There's no way I'm doing that!"

"What does it say?" Angelina asked curiously.

"It says I have to pick someone to snog," she said, looking menacingly at the twins. Both twins were rolling with laughter. "Is it me, or does anyone else see a theme here?" she grumbled.

"That's part of the fun!" George exclaimed between laughs.

"I'd be happy to volunteer," Fred told her, quite seriously.

"Not on your life!" Hermione said, angrily. "I have a feeling we've been duped!"

"Come on now, 'Mione," George teased, mimicking Ron. "Be a sport about it! Just choose someone."

"Fine!" Hermione huffed. "But I'm getting you back for this Fred and George Weasley! You mark my words!" Rising quickly to her feet, she turned to Ron, she said, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Ron scrambled to his feet, practically tripping over them in his haste. "Where are we going?" he asked nervously, as she roughly dragged him from the room.

"Well, it's not like I want an audience for this!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Then how will we know you really did it?" Claire asked pointedly.

Hermione stiffened. "You'll just have to take our word for it," she snapped.

"Or watch the Orb," Fred grinned. "If they kiss, then the orb will turn blue."

"My, don't we think of everything!" Hermione said curtly, grabbing Ron's hand and heading for the kitchen. "I'd watch my back if I were you, Fred Weasley," she hissed as she passed. "You and your identical twit! Come on Ron!" she bellowed. "Let's make this good."

Harry smiled. He had no doubt that she was dead serious on all counts.


	13. What It Means to be Harry

**Chapter Thirteen**

"**What it Means to be Harry"**

Harry watched Hermione drag a spluttering Ron into the kitchen. He could imagine her verbal assault on Ron started the minute they left the room. Getting up from the circle, he snuck over to the door to eavesdrop, just to make sure everything was all right and to give Ron reinforcements if necessary. Ginny and the twins followed quietly while everyone else continued to socialise. They all jostled for positions as quietly as they could, having a hard time keeping from laughing as Hermione's voice drifted through the door. George pulled out a pair of Extendable Ears for each of them. As they all put them on, they were extra cautious to hide the unusual devices from the view of the Muggles.

"How dare they!" they heard Hermione screech, suddenly much louder. Harry thought she sounded very much like Ron's mother when she was in a tirade about the twins' latest escapade. "Who do your brothers think they are? To think, I even agreed to allow them to continue on with this charade!" she ranted loudly. "I knew better than to trust a Weasley _boy_ - especially _those_ Weasley boys!"

"Hold on one minute there, Hermione!" Harry heard Ron say. Hermione was starting to wind him up, from the sound of it. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked her indignantly.

Harry could just imagine her pacing in front of Ron and pausing every once in awhile to point her finger at him. He had seen this enough over the years to know exactly how it went.

"A simple little game, _ha_! Look at what's happened already! Harry just about had a complete breakdown in there, in case you hadn't noticed!" Harry felt his own hackles rise at the mention of his name but he kept himself in check. "Why in the world they chose a glass orb, of all things, after what happened in June, I'll never understand!" Hermione continued on loudly. "Surely someone told them! And all this snogging business – what do you think that's all about?"

There was a definite pause. Then Harry heard an "_ooaf_" sound and knew she had smacked Ron in the chest with the back of her hand as she paced. "Well?" she asked, sounding very irritated.

"Am I supposed to talk now?" Ron asked, making Ginny cover her mouth to keep from laughing. "What was the question again?" he spluttered.

"The _game_, Ron," Hermione said. "The Orb of Truth, my foot! What are they playing at?"

"How should _I_ know?" Harry heard Ron say.

"Well, they're _your_ brothers, aren't they?"

"You know how Fred and George are, 'Mione," Ron shot back, causing the two in question to snicker. "Who even _wants_ to know what goes through their minds? _You're_ the one who said it would be okay, remember?"

"Yes, I remember." She said this more calmly, apparently trying to regain her composure. "I was upset about Harry and just thought that we could lighten the mood a bit. Probably too much Butterbeer going to my head!"

"Well, _now_ what are we going to do?" he asked angrily. "_You_ got us in this mess, agreeing to this lousy game and then guessing wrong! What are we going to do about it?"

"I'll tell you what we're going to do, Ronald Weasley!" she said suddenly. "The first thing we're going to do is _this_!"

Harry and the others listened to silence broken only by a small moan from one or the other. They could hear some smacking noises and Harry, feeling like he was invading their privacy, quietly rolled up his Extendable Ears and motioned for the others to do the same.

Fred gestured towards the orb, which had turned a bright shade of blue. "There's your proof," he said casually.

"Oi! Ron… Hermione!" George yelled towards the kitchen. "That's enough! Break up the snogging already, you two lovebirds! We know you did the deed. Now it's time to get back to the game! Give someone else a turn, will you?"

When the two returned to the circle, they were both beet red, but grinning from ear to ear. Harry was actually happy for his two best friends. He knew that it had been a long time in the making - there had been signs of this back in fourth year, but nothing since. He had a feeling that if it weren't for him and his problems, the two would have admitted their feelings for each other sooner. _'Then again,'_ he thought as he looked at Ginny who was also grinning happily, _'maybe things turn out exactly like they're supposed to….'_

Fred and George were at it again. They commanded everyone's attention away from congratulating and ribbing Ron and Hermione and back on the game. "All right, Hermione," George told her. "You're turn to pick someone to go next."

"Hmm…. Let's see," she said, eyeing the circle carefully. "If my theory is correct, then who do I know that needs a good snog?" Her eyes fell on Harry, who was looking much happier at the moment. "I think I'll choose Harry."

At her words, Harry immediately found himself put out that Hermione thought he would be in need of something like that. After all, up until a few minutes ago he was the only one of his friends who had admitted to snogging anyone! And, even though they didn't know it, he had just spent the better part of an hour snogging Ginny upstairs. Annoyed, he took the glass ball from her.

"You know what?" Harry said defiantly, taking the glass orb that was handed to him, "I think you may be right." Ginny looked at him curiously, but did not comment.

Hermione held out the orb to him reluctantly, biting her lip nervously. She was most likely regretting her words right now and trying to determine if she had upset him. In fact, everyone was looking at him warily. He knew they were most likely trying to discern if he was going to explode or pass out again and that really hacked him off. Going in there with Ginny might not be a smart decision, but right now he didn't really care. Even though he and Ginny had agreed to keep their relationship a secret for now, he could think of nothing more pleasant at the moment than snogging his brains out with her while the others watched that little glass ball turn blue. _Need a good snog, my arse! Just you wait, Hermione… you'll see._

Harry took the orb with only a twinge of apprehension. As clearly as he could he said, "Reveal…

"Who is the one whose first kiss was at the top of the Eiffel Tower?" he read. He grinned broadly; luckily, he didn't have a clue. Looking around, he wondered, who did he know that had never been to Paris, never kissed anyone, and definitely never kissed on top of the Eiffel Tower? Several names came to mind, but he didn't want to take chances, after all. Of course, he couldn't make it too obvious, either…

"Dudley, you ever kissed a girl at the top of the Eiffel Tower?" he asked cheekily. The orb glowed red. "Oh man! That's right - you prefer boys, don't you?" His words had the desired effect; Dudley looked ready to murder him. Harry smiled a big, genuine smile. "I guess you get your wish, Hermione," he said gleefully, holding up the orb for all to see. "Imagine that! I have to pick someone to snog!"

"You... you did that on purpose!" Dudley sputtered, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"Honestly, Dudley! Why would I do that?" Harry said innocently. "According to you and everyone here, I'm just a pathetic loser." He knew his voice was dripping with sarcasm, but he didn't care. He also didn't care that Hermione was just about ready to chew her bottom lip off at the moment, and looked in danger of crying. "Well," he said, as nonchalantly as possible, "I suppose I have to pick someone. Who do _I_ know that's in need of a good snog?"

Pretending to look around the circle and contemplate, his eyes fell on Ginny, who was trying not to laugh. "Ginny… You seem to be a good sport. You wouldn't be game for a good snog from this pathetic loser, would you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in what he hoped was a cheeky way.

Pretending to be surprised, Ginny raised her eyebrow and gave him a cheeky look of her own. "Me?" she asked in a pretend surprised tone. She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, Harry… I am a Gryffindor, aren't I? I think I can handle a pathetic loser like you. Why not?"

Harry faintly heard Mary whisper to Malcolm, "What's a Gryffindor?" Luckily it seemed that they were just making trivial conversation.

Harry pulled himself up and grabbed Ginny's hand to help her up as well. As they passed Dudley, his cousin said in a nasty voice to Ginny, "Too bad for you, luv… Don't be disappointed… I'm sure my dear cousin would prefer one of his boyfriends. But if you wait a moment, I could show you how a real man kisses."

Harry was just about ready to pound Dudley again for his cheek, when Ginny stepped between them. Turning to Dudley, she said smoothly, "Thanks for that really tempting offer, but I already know what a real man's kisses are like." Then, turning she sauntered towards the kitchen, looking back briefly to ask a dumb-founded Harry, "Are you coming, _luv_?"

Harry trotted after Ginny, still shocked at her bravado. He really didn't know what to make of her. Was she talking about him or some other boy? Maybe Michael Corner, or maybe Dean Thomas? Harry vaguely remembered a conversation on the Hogwarts Express about her choosing Dean Thomas as her boyfriend.

He needn't have worried. The moment the door swung shut, Ginny grabbed his shirt. "I've wanted to do this for the past hour," she said in a low growl, very close to his face.

He replied by smashing her to him roughly and kissing her full on the lips, all the time backing her up to the countertop where he lifted her in order to get a better angle. The moment their lips touched, he forgot about everything that was happening outside of the kitchen, even the people sitting in the circle watching the glass ball turn a bright blue. All he could think about was losing himself in her, and kissing her so thoroughly that his head spun from lack of air. Fortunately, the lack of oxygen to his brain only made the kiss sweeter and he revelled in the feelings their tongues made as they danced and played with one another. It was better even than upstairs, made even more exciting by the fact that for all intents and purposes, they had an audience.

In the other room the orb glowed bright blue - brighter even than when Ron and Hermione had kissed. What's more, it stayed that way for a long time. At first, the crowd was shocked at how quickly it had changed. They had expected some delay related to the awkwardness of the situation. The almost immediate change to bright blue was shocking, even for Fred and George who had invented it to show the intensity of the kiss.

The three Weasley males thought it was funny at first, and made some jokes about their little sister's long time crush on The-Boy-Who-Lived and her dream come true. Then, as the group watched the small glass ball with fascination, instead of growing fainter it grew brighter, never flickering even once. The only ones who truly knew what this meant were the twins, who began to get slightly worried.

Fred looked at George hopefully. "Do you think it malfunctioned, you suppose?"

"Umm, Ginny... Harry!" George called out tentatively. "That's quite enough, you two!"

No answer from the kitchen. The orb still glowed, bright as ever.

"Enough is enough, Gin-Gin," Fred called out, a little more desperately. "Harry, come on! Quit kidding around you two!" he yelled out.

Ron - finally catching on to the gravity of the situation as only an older brother can - got up and banged on the kitchen door. He didn't dare open it because he wasn't sure he wanted to see what was happening on the other side between his sister and best friend.

"Oi! Harry! Ginny! Get your arses in here right this minute or I'm telling Mum!" he bellowed.

A few seconds later a very breathless and dishevelled couple emerged from the kitchen, looking as though they wanted to sink through the floor. Harry was kicking himself for forgetting about the crowd and that damn orb. He remembered how it had glowed when Ron and Hermione had been in the kitchen, and now he was embarrassed at what it must have done while he and Ginny had been in the other room. His face flushed even more and he looked at the floor instead of the Weasleys. He was never going to hear the end of this….

Ginny, on the other hand, held her head up high, grabbed Harry's hand, and looked each one of her brothers defiantly in the eye. Her cheeks were just as flushed as Harry's, but she had a wild, untamed look about her with her curly red hair flying every which way, and a brightness in her eyes that had not been there before.

Looking at Ron in particular, she challenged him, pointing her finger in turn at each of her brothers. "And what exactly do you plan to tell Mum, dear brother? Anything you say, I can match. Might I remind you, I have plenty on all of you, and you'd do well not to forget it!" With that, she made her way back to her seat in the circle, dragging a slightly embarrassed, slightly amused Harry with her.

To his horror, though she stopped briefly in front of Dudley and glared at him triumphantly. "I hope you enjoyed the show," she said triumphantly. "Your cousin is an excellent kisser. He must get his talent from the Potter side of the family."

"Maybe we'll have to test that theory before the night is over, luv," Dudley replied.

Harry did not like the leering look that Dudley gave her one bit, and he tightened his grip on her hand. He'd seen that look before on Dudley's face that very afternoon while they watched that horrible video. It was disconcerting to see it as he looked at Ginny. Troubled, he pulled Ginny away quickly before she could retort.

"All right, Lover-boy," George teased Harry once everyone was seated around the circle again, "it's your turn to pick someone to answer the next question."

Still very red and embarrassed but in a much better mood, Harry looked around the circle and carefully considered whom he might choose. Seeing that everyone chosen so far had been one of his friends from Hogwarts, Harry decided that it was time for one of the Muggles to get in on the fun. Remembering how nice the twins, Andrea and Audra had been to him back when they were in the same school, he rolled the orb over to one of them (he wasn't sure which). It turned out to be Audra.

Audra picked up the ball and, flushing slightly, said "Reveal." The orb, now back to its original pink colour, formed words, which Audra read out loud. "Who is the one who would like to snog their biology teacher?" Looking very relieved, she grinned. "That's easy! Claire!" The orb glowed green.

"Can I help it if he's totally good-looking?" Claire said casually, examining her fingernails.

"All right, my dear," Fred told her, "your turn to pick someone."

"Andrea," she said, giving her twin an evil smile.

Andrea took the orb from her sister with a sarcastic, thank-you-very-much smirk. "Reveal," she told the orb.

"Who is the one who likes to snog under the stars?" She gave a frustrated laugh. "Just about everybody, in my experience!"

"That sounds promising," Fred piped up. "Oops! Did I say that out loud?" he asked, covering his mouth in mock-surprise. Everyone laughed, including Andrea.

"Is Fred the one who likes to snog under the stars?" she asked. The orb turned red.

"Not that I mind the stars, I'll have you know," he grinned. "Now that you mention it, I actually like the stars!"

"So how do you like the kitchen?" she asked, nodding towards the door.

"I thought you'd never ask!" he said quickly, jumping to his feet and sprinting over to her to help her to her feet. They were gone in a rush. Although it didn't happen quite as fast as Harry and Ginny's trip to the kitchen, the orb did not waste time turning blue.

After about five minutes or so, the pair returned looking very satisfied. Harry noticed neither looked the least embarrassed.

"Okay Andrea, you choose someone now," George told her.

"Claire," she said, handing it over to her friend. "This is really fun!" Andrea commented, as Claire prepared to read the next question.

"Who is the one whose first kiss was under the mistletoe?" she read in a bored voice. "Hmm… who could it be?"

Harry felt his face grow hot and he saw Ron glance at him nervously. He was sure Ron was thinking the same thing as him. _His_ first kiss had been under the mistletoe last Christmas with Cho. Harry held his breath, as Claire seemed to survey the group. He was sure he saw her eyes rest on him for more than a second and he couldn't help himself – he began to squirm slightly. What if she guessed right? What would Ginny say?

To his great relief, Claire did not say his name. Instead, she said, "Oh… I don't know! Is it Mary?" The orb turned red. "Darn! I guess I was wrong," she said, actually sounding happy about it.

"You know that I—" Mary began but shut up with a significant glare from the blond.

"Who to choose? Who to choose?" Claire mused, looking around the circle. Her steely blue eyes settled on Harry, who was definitely evading her gaze. "I choose… Harry Potter."

Ginny looked ready to kill. "No!" she yelled. "I don't think so!"

Claire looked at her directly and gave a small smile. "Those are the rules, correct? If you guess wrong, then you have to pick someone to snog. I choose Harry."

"But Harry doesn't want to snog you, you nasty Bi—" Ginny snarled.

Ginny was cut off abruptly by Hermione's appalled admonition of, "Ginny! Language!"

"You don't understand, Hermione! Tell her, Harry, how badly Claire treated you in school… tell them how she teased and tormented you and made your life miserable! She has no right—" Ginny protested.

Harry remained quiet, not wanting to appear to the other boys that he was a whiner or that he needed a girl to fight his battles for him. If looks could kill, Dudley had already murdered him ten times over. As much as Harry did not want to snog Claire, he also did not want to appear weak. "Ginny..." he attempted to say apologetically.

Seeing that he was not going to back her up on this, Ginny gave a frustrated huff, crossed her arms, and turned away. Harry immediately felt like one of Hagrid's flobberworms.

"Ginny, it's all part of the game," Fred attempted to say.

"Yeah, little sister… it's not personal," George said, casting Claire a doubtful look. Claire was sitting across from him with a satisfied smirk.

"Fine," Ginny said, throwing up her hands in defeat. "Go ahead, Harry. Snog to your heart's content!" She looked at him defiantly, an ice-cold glare that sent shivers right to Harry's heart. "I hope you enjoy yourself."

At the moment, Harry was not enjoying himself. His emotions – so high only moments ago – had just taken another nose-dive. Going into the kitchen with Claire Smith was the last thing he wanted. But neither did he want to lose face with Dudley and his gang. He knew Dudley was already boiling mad, but it would give him too much ammunition if he refused.

"Harry?" Claire asked innocently as she got up. "Are you coming?"

Harry didn't say anything or look at anyone as he got to his feet. He couldn't bear to see the look of hurt on Ginny's face as he obediently trudged after Claire into the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, Harry threw Claire an angry, irritated look. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he raged.

"What do you think?" Claire asked, nonplussed. She stepped closer and stroked one of his arms, which were crossed.

"I—I don't know…." he said, knocked completely off-guard. "Stop doing that!" he told her, backing away. Unfortunately, she had backed him into the counter.

Claire moved closer to Harry – so close that he could feel her breath on his cheek. "It's simple, really… I want you to kiss me," she purred.

He felt his equilibrium give way. She was too close. "Why _me_?"

"Because, Harry, you intrigue me. There's something different about you. I don't know what it is, but it fascinates me," she said silkily, running a long manicured fingernail down his cheek.

Harry shivered from her touch. Even though he didn't want to, he felt a small part of himself responding to her. The fact that she was incredibly sexy was not lost on him. The problem was that he did not particularly like her.

"Ginny-" Harry attempted to protest.

"-is not here right now," Claire finished for him. "There's no one here except for you and me, Harry, and I really want to kiss you now." She moved in even closer and Harry felt her soft lips on his cheek, drawing him closer to her. "It's all part of the game, remember?" she whispered seductively.

The male part of his brain didn't think that was such a bad idea. Almost against his will he leaned in to give her a quick kiss and then escape, but the moment their lips touched, he felt something rise up in him. Claire had unleashed something inside him that was needy and hungry. For an instant Harry Potter was gone and the thing inside of him took control. He felt Claire push against him eagerly and he pushed back, returning the kiss with aggression and an enthusiasm he did not understand. He couldn't comprehend what he was even doing; it didn't make sense. Claire was not someone he would normally even be attracted to. It was like he was not in command of himself…

Roughly and with great effort, he pushed the blond away. "There you go, you got what you wanted," he said angrily. His sudden loss of control had unnerved him greatly. "Don't expect it to ever happen again."

He stormed out of the kitchen, only to find everyone staring at him strangely. Quietly he made his way back to the circle, careful not to look at anyone directly. Technically he knew he had done nothing wrong. It was all part of the game, wasn't it? Even Claire had said so. But for some reason he felt as if he had done something terrible, and the way they were all looking at him only reinforced that feeling. Harry sat down beside Ginny and tried to catch her eye, but she refused to look at him. All the Weasleys were glaring at him and even Hermione looked like she wanted to tell him off. And then there was Dudley who looked livid.

To Harry's chagrin, Claire came sauntering back from the kitchen looking very pleased with herself. Harry wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off her face. At the moment he had never disliked anyone as much as he disliked her.

Claire sat down in the circle, looked directly at Ginny, and smiled sweetly. "You were right," she told her. "He is an excellent kisser. That was, without a doubt, one of the most satisfying kisses I've ever had."

Harry's jaw dropped at her words. He might have felt pleased with himself if Ginny hadn't looked so hurt. He noticed even Ron looked torn between anger and grudging admiration for him. Harry had never felt so confused in his whole life.

Fred cleared his throat. "It's your turn to choose someone," he told Claire, indicating for her to pass the ball, which was still in front of her, to another person.

Lazily, Claire picked up the glowing orb. "Here Dudders," she said casually, thrusting it in his stiff hands. "You take it."

Looking between Claire and Harry, Dudley's face suddenly became a mask of resolve, making Harry's stomach do a flip. He knew that look. Dudley was really hacked off now and he was out for revenge.

"Fine," he said tightly. Harry knew he must be really angry to willingly put himself in contact with anything magical. He saw Dudley grit his teeth tightly then say, "Reveal! Who once snogged their best friend's brother?" Narrowing his eyes, he said, "Piers Polkiss… I choose her!" he said, pointing his finger at Ginny as the ball turned red.

Chaos erupted. Piers began yelling that he would never willing snog a boy, some of the group was laughing outright, and the others were yelling that Dudley was cheating by not following the rules of the game. Harry had jumped to his feet along with Ron, causing Hermione to step between them and the object of their anger to stop them from pounding Dudley.

Harry felt his heart constrict with white-hot rage. He knew Dudley had only done that to get back at him and it wasn't fair to Ginny to have to kiss a repulsive git like Dudley just because his cousin hated him. In fact, the thought of Ginny snogging anyone but him made Harry nauseous.

The argument was brought to a screeching halt by Ginny, who whistled loudly to get everyone's attention. Defiantly, she looked directly at Harry and said, "I don't have a problem with that, Dudley."

"Ginny…" Harry said, taken aback by the coldness in her gaze. "You know he's only doing this to get back at me, right? You don't have to do this."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "It's only a game, right Harry?"

Harry's eyes pleaded with her. "Not to him it's not. Ginny… I know you're upset with me-"

"Grow up, Harry," Ginny said harshly. "Not everything is about you."

"I never said it was!" Harry exclaimed angrily. "But I'm not stupid. You're only agreeing to this because of what happened earlier."

"Maybe she just wants to compare," Dudley interjected loudly. "What's wrong, Potter? Afraid your girlfriend will figure out what she's been missing?"

"Shut up, Dudley!" Harry growled.

"Sit down, Harry," Ginny said. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of this myself."

"But-"

"Stop," she commanded. "I'm not discussing this with you, Harry. You're not my boyfriend or my brother. You're not even my friend, really."

Her words cut him to the core, mostly because he knew they were true. He _wasn't_ her brother, or her boyfriend. At this point he didn't know what they were, but the fact that she didn't consider him a friend was what hurt him the most.

He took a step back, stunned. "I-I didn't know you felt that way. You're right, of course." He tried to school his features to hide the hurt. "Go on, then," he told her. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." Turning to Dudley, he snarled, "If you hurt her, I swear I will kill you… if it's the last thing I do." Then he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

He didn't know where he was going, just that he had to get away and think. He knew that he had no right to tell Ginny what to do. He certainly hadn't listened to her when she asked him not to go in there with Claire. In retrospect, he should have listened to her.

He heard footsteps behind him and whirled around to see Hermione. "What do you want?" he said more harshly than he had intended.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine!" he snapped. At the moment he felt like a caged animal; he paced in the hallway feeling like he wanted to explode.

"Harry," Hermione said gently, coming up to him and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He stopped pacing. Usually he was uncomfortable with this kind of contact, but right now it felt like a lifeline. He took a deep, calming breath. "I just can't watch it turn blue, Hermione, and know that he… that she…"

"I know, Harry," Hermione said. "But think how Ginny felt when you went in the kitchen and she sat there and watched it turn bright blue. Merlin, Harry… it stayed that way for a long time! It looked like you…" She stopped abruptly, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Like, I what?" Harry asked.

Hermione gulped. "Like you enjoyed it," she said very fast. "Did you?"

Harry paused to think. Had he enjoyed it? On some level, that hadn't even seemed like him in there with Claire. It was like something else had taken control, and he shivered. Turning to Hermione, he tried to explain. "I- I didn't mean to hurt her, Hermione. I don't know what happened. Something inside me is spinning out of control and I don't trust myself anymore. Maybe it's better if Ginny and I don't start something."

"Better for whom, Harry?" she asked. "You, or Ginny?"

"Better for Ginny, of course," he said. "I'd only end up hurting her, and I couldn't bare that."

"Harry, the fact that you're even worried about hurting Ginny is a sign that you care about her."

"I do care about her," he said firmly. "I care about her a great deal."

"Then come back into the living room," Hermione pleaded.

"I can't. I can't watch that."

"Trust me, Harry," Hermione said, holding out her hand. "I promise you, it will be all right."

Harry stared at her hand for a long minute, then reached out and grabbed her hand.

As it turned out, Harry didn't have to watch anything. By the time they returned to the circle, Ginny and Dudley were coming back. Ron gleefully told them that the orb had glowed blue, but just barely and only for a split second. Dudley's face looked very red, and he seemed to be walking funny. Harry looked at Ginny curiously, but she refused to look at him and took a seat far away from him. He tried not to stare at her as the game continued, but it was difficult.

By the time the orb finally passed to Katie, one of the few who had not ended up in the kitchen, Harry was almost relaxed and enjoying himself again. Katie took the orb from Dennis and shakily said, "Reveal."

Harry was surprised when she did not read what it said aloud. Instead, she turned very pale and looked up at Fred and George with an expression that was a mixture of confusion and panic. "This isn't right," she said, her voice quivering. "I think it's broken."

The twins exchanged a significant look. "I thought we fixed it," George told Fred.

"We did. What's it say, Katie?" Fred asked.

Katie did not answer; she opened her mouth mutely then shut it almost immediately. She glanced at Harry quickly but looked away as if she could not bear to look at him.

A hard knot was welling in Harry's gut he had a bad feeling about this.

"Nothing," Katie said, putting the orb down as if it were repulsive. "I think this game is over."

"Nonsense!" George exclaimed, grabbing the orb up. "If you don't what to snog, that's your business, but I haven't had _my_ turn yet," he said raising an eyebrow to Audra, who blushed. Dennis had chosen her, but they were only in the kitchen for a total of two minutes before they returned.

Katie tried to grab the orb out of George's hands but he was too quick. "I really think we should just quit while we're ahead," she told George frantically.

"What could be so... _oh_," he said, turning pale and looking up sharply at Harry. "Fred, I think you need to take a look at this. I don't think we've worked out all the bugs yet," George said gravely, trying unsuccessfully not to look at Harry again. George rolled the ball to his twin who paled as well.

"Not good…" he said, also looking at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, nervously. He was imagining his snog upstairs on his bed with Ginny and wondering how long he had to live before her brothers stripped him of his life.

"For heaven's sake, give it here!" Hermione said impatiently, jerking the Orb out of Fred's hand. Harry watched her read and pale as well. Looking up, she simply said, "Harry?"

The orb turned green. Katie squealed, covering her mouth. Fred and George both sucked in their breath audibly, and Hermione looked ready to faint.

"What?" Harry asked again more insistently, the knot beginning to tighten.

"Nothing," Hermione squeaked. "This game's over," she said firmly, shooting the twins and Katie a meaningful look.

"Look—" Harry said, glancing at Ginny. "If this has anything to do with what happened upstairs... we—we just got a bit carried away…" he said hesitantly, trailing off when three red-heads swung around and gave him surprised glares.

"Upstairs?" Fred asked, confused.

"I _knew_ that couldn't be your first kiss!" George accused. "Harry, you little _devil_!" Giving him an appraising look, he said appreciatively, "Well done, mate!"

"What exactly happened between you two after Hermione and I left?" Ron asked angrily.

"Nothing happened that didn't happen between you and Hermione in the kitchen! And even if it did, it would be none of your business, Ronald Weasley!" Ginny informed him.

"Of course, it's my business! I'm your brother, and Harry is my best mate!" Ron countered.

"Yeah, Ginny! What exactly did happen upstairs?" Fred asked curiously.

"Come on, Gin-Gin – spill the beans! What exactly _did_ happen between you and the Boy Hero?" George piped up insistently.

"Harry, I need to speak with you in private," Hermione whispered in Harry's ear as the Weasleys distracted everyone's attention with their family row.

Looking up curiously at Hermione, he had the distinct impression that something more was going on with that orb other than what he had thought. Harry was confused, though. If it hadn't been about what happened upstairs, could it have something to do with his first kiss with Cho under the mistletoe? But why would everyone act so shocked, if that was the case?

His relationship with Cho hadn't been well-known but it hadn't exactly been a secret, either. Ginny couldn't be angry about that because she had been with Michael Corner at the time. He was sure that most all of the Gryffindors there knew most of the gory details of his disastrous attempt at a first kiss, anyway. Not much was secret in the Common Room.

"Please?" Hermione asked insistently when Harry hesitated. "You might as well come too, Ron," she told him. Ginny was still being grilled by Fred and George.

Harry got up and followed her and Ron into the kitchen.

"What's up?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah, what's this all about, Hermione?" Ron asked. Then his eyes widened. "They didn't do anything… serious upstairs, did they?" He narrowed his eyes menacingly at Harry.

"Why didn't you tell us you heard the prophecy?" Hermione asked unexpectedly, completely ignoring the both of them.

"Huh?" Ron grunted, confused. "Prophecy? What prophecy?"

Harry paled. "What do you mean, Hermione? The prophecy broke. You know that," he said carefully, trying not to let his voice betray the panic rising from his chest. He refused to meet her eye.

"But somehow you found out what it said," Hermione said impatiently.

"I told you it broke," Harry said through a clenched jaw. "Just drop it, okay?"

"You know what was in that glass ball at the ministry?" Ron said incredulously. "And you didn't tell us?"

"So what if I do?" Harry asked angrily. He was beginning to get really irritated and wish that this night had never happened. What business was it of their, anyway? And how could Hermione know Dumbledore had told him?

"But Neville said it broke before anyone heard it," Hermione said, confused.

"It did," Harry said miserably, in a defeated voice. He sunk down on the floor with his back to the kitchen cupboards. "He did."

"Then how did you find out what was in it?" Hermione asked, sinking down beside him. Harry would not look at her.

"Dumbledore's Pensieve," Harry said dully. "He was there when the prophecy was made and he showed it to me after—" he broke off because a great lump had formed in his throat. He couldn't say after Sirius' death, or after his confrontation with Voldemort, and he especially couldn't say after Voldemort tried to possess him. He was not ready to share those details just yet.

"Blimey, Harry. Why didn't you say anything? What did it say?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry looked over at Hermione sharply. "Why are you asking me this? What did that bloody ball of glass out there say, Hermione? And just how many people know about this, anyway?"

"Well," Hermione told him, "Katie, Fred, George, and me. I don't think they'll say anything, though, Harry. Fred and George may be prats but they're not total gits. They can be serious at times – look at the success they're making of themselves."

"You didn't answer my question, Hermione," Harry said through clenched teeth. "What did it say?"

"It said," she answered with a sigh, _"Who is the one who will either kill or be killed by the Dark Lord?"_

"Crikey!" Ron gasped.

"Well," Harry said slowly, sucking in air, "that about covers it," he said in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.

For once, Hermione was at a loss for words. A tense silence hung in the air between the three of them. Finally, Harry broke it by saying dully, "There was more, but I don't really feel like going into it right now. Suffice it to say, Voldemort's marked me and now there's no escape. It's either him or me."

Quietly he looked down at his shoes and whispered, "That's why my parents were killed, you know, and that's why he wanted the prophecy. He never heard all of it, so he was trying to use me to get it for him so he could find out what it said."

"And did he?" Hermione asked.

"Did he what?" Harry asked, confused.

"Did he find out what it said? Did he get to hear the whole prophecy?" she asked.

"No," Harry answered. "I told you - it smashed and no one heard it. As far as I know, only Dumbledore and I know what it says in its entirety."

"Then you need to keep it that way, Harry," she said wisely.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean that if you tell anyone, you could put them and yourself in danger. If they were captured, he could force them to tell and then he'd know how to destroy you," she reasoned.

"It didn't say anything like that," he said surprised. "It just talked about some power I'm supposed to have that he hasn't got. And that's the thing, Hermione - I don't have any special power. I can't even do half of what he can!" he said, frustrated.

Harry ran a hand through his messier than usual black hair and banged the back of his head roughly on the cupboard behind him.

"Harry," she said gently, "do you remember what I told you back in first year when we were trying to get to the Stone?"

Harry thought back to that time. What had Hermione said to him? Then it hit him. "You told me that I was a great wizard," he said quietly. "But—" he began to protest.

"But nothing! You are a great wizard, Harry," she told him with conviction. "I believed that then and I believe it now. If anyone can beat him, it's you."

"Hermione's right, mate," Ron said. "We've always known there was something special about you. Like it or not, you're the only one who's ever beaten him."

Harry jumped to his feet and began to pace irritably. "You don't understand, do you?" he roared. "I can't beat him this time! He's too strong! You've never faced him, you have no idea!" Harry hit his hand on the countertop in frustration, noticing with satisfaction that they both jumped.

'_Good,'_ he thought, _'they should be scared'._

"Trust me," he said out loud with as much conviction as he could muster, "He's as terrible as everyone says. I'd be dead right now if it weren't for Dumbledore."

Hermione jumped to her feet and looked him straight in the eye. "Dumbledore hasn't always been there when you've faced him, Harry."

"She's right, Harry," Ron agreed.

"That was just dumb luck," he tried to protest. "Our wands connected… my parents helped me... I couldn't have done all those things on my own!"

"Being great doesn't mean doing things on your own," Hermione informed him. "Greatness comes from knowing your weaknesses and overcoming them at any cost. It means doing the right things at the right times, even if it's not the easiest thing to do."

"You sound like Dumbledore," Harry said, jerking away from her violently. "He told me once that I might have to choose between what is right and what is easy. But... don't you see? I don't _have_ a choice! It's either him or me!"

"Harry," she said gently, putting a calming hand on his arm. "We all have choices in life. Surely you must see that you do have a choice. You can choose to fight or you can choose to give up." She made sure that he was looking her in the eye when she said, "I know you, Harry. I know what choice you'll make."

Harry opened his mouth to respond when Ginny burst through the door. They all turned to look at her, startled.

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she asked, "What happened?"

Harry silently pleaded with the others to drop the matter. He intended to tell Ginny soon, but right now he didn't think he was up for rehashing it again. Luckily, Hermione caught his subtle body language and grinned at Ginny. "I was just giving Harry some friendly advice about girls," she told the red-head.

"Yeah," Ron said, "about that..."

"Ron," Hermione warned, "Ginny is a big girl and can take care of herself. I suggest you drop it and let Harry worry about Ginny. I have a feeling that he'll make the right choice," she said, looking intently at her black-haired best friend. Harry knew she was talking about more than Ginny.

She shoved Ron back into the other room, still protesting about the honour of his little sister.

"Ginny," Harry said hesitantly as they made to leave the kitchen.

"Yes?" she said, her face a mask of indifference.

"I- I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "About earlier, I mean. No matter what it looked like, I didn't want to go come in here with Claire and I certainly didn't enjoy myself."

She tried to brush past him. "Could have fooled me."

Just before she reached the doorway he caught hold of her. "You're the only girl I want," he said. "You're the only one I want to kiss." He felt her softening and pulled her closer. "Believe me, Ginny… what happened earlier will never happen again. I promise."

"All right, Harry," she said reluctantly. "I believe you. But know that I won't play this game with you. If you want me and only me, then I'm yours. But I won't share you with anyone. If it happens again, it's over between you and me."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He never intended to put himself in that position ever again. "Understood," he told her firmly. "Friends?"

Ginny grinned. "Friends."

Harry felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Ron and Hermione knew about the prophecy and Ginny wanted to be his friend. As long as he had her friendship, he knew he could work on rebuilding her trust.

Catching sight of Hermione, he excused himself, telling Ginny he needed to clear something up. He made his way over to his two friends, who were both looking worried. "What do you think I should say to say to Fred, George, and Katie?" he asked them.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione assured him. "I'll take care of it. I just hope that _Befuddlement_ charm is strong enough to work on wizards as well as Muggles. I'll just make a suggestion to them that the game was picking up on your fears about being killed by V-Voldemort."

Harry was relieved to have such a smart witch for a friend. It had been nice to talk about the prophecy. He had not realised how much it had taken out of him to keep that secret. Maybe he should talk more about these things with his friends.

Of course, Harry reasoned, there hadn't been time at the end of term. He had been too wrapped up in grief to focus much on the future. Once he had come back to the Dursleys it had really hit home, the predicament he was in. Sure, he had thought about it before - but since he had come here he had thought of little else.

The fear that he couldn't beat Voldemort was weighing heavily on his mind and he was glad to have finally voiced that fear. Hermione's confidence in him had been reassuring, even if a big part of him was not convinced he would survive this confrontation that he was destined to have with the Dark Lord.

Deciding to think about it later, he made his way back to Ginny with a somewhat lighter heart, very glad that he had understanding friends who believed in him, but still uncertain about what the future held.

**A/N: This story is in the processing of being rewritten. I have uploaded the chapters that have been completed so far, but you will notice the next chapter may not flow with this one. I apologize for that. The rewrite will not change the story, however, so please try to ignore the inconsistencies. I will upload new chapters as I finish them. Thank you for understanding.**


	14. Warning

**AN: **To my loyal readers: Thank you for being patient with me during this substantial lull in updates. For those of you who hadn't heard, my husband was transferred to Camp Zama, Japan from Fort Bragg, NC and we have been in the process of moving overseas for the last few months. This was very unexpected and quick but we adapted and now, three months later… here we are. My family and I are finally settled into our new home and have gotten over jet lag and culture shock. We have our household goods, a house, and the kids are both back in school. Driving is a bit scary, but thankfully I don't have to do that often. We're even learning a bit of the language so that we can communicate off-post. Frankly, we are loving Japan and beginning to get back into a routine even though things are very different here. Living on a military post helps bring all the comforts of home, but outside the gate is a totally different world. All in all, we are adjusting well. I am still committed to finishing this project and it's sequel, for those of you who are reading that one. Thank you again for hanging in there with me, and thanks to Arnel for beta reading this so quickly.

**Disclaimer:**   
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

No profit is being made from this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter Fourteen**

"**Warning"**

Harry's conversation with Hermione and Ron had put his mind at ease, somewhat, but he was still worried. His current mood was such that he knew it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort would break through again. He could feel twinges in his scar again – a dull ache centring on his famous lightning-bolt scar.

He was so distracted by his throbbing head that he hadn't noticed when his cousin had disappeared. Turning to Ron he asked, "Where did Dudley and his friends go?"

"Dunno," Ron replied with a shrug. "I saw them whispering in the corner and then they all ducked out the back. Who cares, really, as long as they're far away from here?"

"Listen, mate," Harry explained, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier about me and Ginny. I just didn't know how."

"'S okay," Ron said with a grin. "I know how my sister can be. I don't blame _you_, exactly. I'm just happy it was you and not Dean Thomas or that slimy git, Michael Corner. I know you'll do right by her, mate, and won't let things get too out of hand."

Harry didn't know how to take that. What had happened upstairs had been just as much his idea as Ginny's; he had wanted to kiss her and neither one of them had exactly held back. True, it had come from out of nowhere – he hadn't thought about Ginny Weasley like _that_ before tonight, but now he could think of nothing else. Those few minutes with Ginny upstairs and in the kitchen had been the best moments of his life. He just needed to work on making it up to her – to make her understand that he hadn't _wanted_ to go in the kitchen with Claire… that he hadn't wanted to enjoy himself. But the niggling truth of the matter that he couldn't quite ignore, no matter how much he wanted to, was he _had_, on some sick level at least, enjoyed it. He head throbbed again and he wanted to throw up. What was wrong with him?

Remembering Ron, Harry turned to him with some effort and asked hesitantly, "So, umm… where's Ginny?" He had tried finding her earlier but she kept avoiding him. Now he didn't see her anywhere.

"Fred and George won't let up with the teasing. She stormed off out the front door a few minutes ago, I think," Ron informed him. "She'll be back when she's ready, I suppose," he said, shrugging.

"Oh," Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wanted very badly to run after her, but Ron didn't seem in a hurry to end their conversation.

Inspired by a moment of brilliance, he began to change Ron's focus from him and Ginny to Hermione. "So… you and Hermione, huh?" he asked, grinning.

"Yep," Ron answered, a silly smile forming on his lips. He immediately got a far-away, dreamy look in his eye and Harry was sure that his best friend was remembering his own encounter in the kitchen. "Pretty wicked, huh?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Wicked." Harry looked over to where Hermione had cornered Fred, George, and Katie. True to her word she was trying to diffuse the situation of the orb and the prophecy. "She's something, isn't she?" Harry asked, meaning it in the best of ways. Hermione was a true friend and always kept her word. "I mean, for a girl and all," he teased.

"You're not upset about us, are you?" Ron asked, his eyes narrowed worriedly.

"Why would I be upset?" Harry said, confused.

"Well," Ron said, "for five years it's pretty much been the three of us."

"It's still the three of us," Harry said.

"But if Hermione and I are together… like _that_," Ron tried to explain, "I just don't want you to feel left out. You know we'll always be there for you, don't you?"

Harry laughed. "You wouldn't be planning snogging sessions in all the broom cupboards in Hogwarts, would you? I still need Hermione to get me through my lessons," Harry teased.

Ron flushed bright red. He had to admit, the thought had crossed his mind.

"I'll tell you what," Harry said seriously. "I'll even loan you my Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map from time to time – when I'm not using them, of course – if you still let Hermione run our study sessions. Even though she can be a bit annoying at times, she comes in handy when it comes to nagging about homework." He grinned to let Ron know he was only teasing.

"Like we could stop her!" Ron snorted. Thinking about potential visits to broom cupboards, Ron flushed even deeper and mumbled, "Thanks, mate. It's a deal."

Luckily Ron was probably too caught up in thoughts of Hermione and broom cupboards to catch Harry's meaning about needing the Invisibility Cloak and map for his own rendezvous with Ginny – provided they worked things out. He decided to distract Ron even more before he could work it out for himself.

"It looks like Hermione is finished talking to Fred, George, and Katie," Harry said conversationally. "Why don't you run the idea by her? Just do me a favour and don't mention the nagging thing, all right?" Harry really needed to find Ginny, and he hoped that Ron would not notice him slipping off.

Thankfully, Ron took the bait. "Yeah," he said, taking a swig of Butterbeer. "I think I might." He quickly strode off to meet Hermione, who was heading their way.

As Hermione and Ron struck up an awkward conversation, Harry ducked out the front door in search of Ginny. He didn't have far to go. She was sitting on the front stoop, looking up at the stars and clutching her knees to her chest. Harry cautiously sat down beside her.

"Ginny—" Harry began uneasily. "Are you… alright?"

"Yes, Harry," Ginny said sadly. "I don't blame you for wanting to go in there with Claire. That _is_ what you wanted to talk about isn't it?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Harry had the eerie feeling that she had read his mind.

"Yeah, I suppose it is," Harry said, feeling like a low-life scum. He deserved to go to St. Brutus' for hurting her. "But I didn't _want_ to snog Claire," he tried to explain even though a small part of him knew that for a moment there in the kitchen he _had_ wanted even more than snogging from the leggy blond. "I just... couldn't say no." Even as he said it, it sounded lame to his ears. Ginny _should_ hate him for what he had done. Harry remembered how he felt when Ginny had agreed to go in the kitchen with Dudley.

"Of course you couldn't, Harry," Ginny said calmly, but with an edge of irritation in her demeanour. "After all, we never made promises to each other, did we?" She refused to look at him and Harry could see how hurt and disappointed she was. It made him feel even worse.

Turning her around to look at him, he tried to show her how sincerely sorry he was for hurting her. "I told you I wanted to find out what was between us, and I meant it," he said firmly. "I'm not in any position to make promises, Ginny. There's a lot you don't know about me."

"There's a lot you don't know about _me,_ Harry," Ginny said angrily. "For instance… I'm very stubborn. Do you really think I'd let a piece of work like Claire Smith stand in the way of what I want?"

Harry caught his breath at the determined look on her face. Was it possible that they could get beyond this after all? Hesitantly - not daring to hope - he asked in a low voice, "And what is it that you want, Miss Weasley?" Harry unintentionally drew closer to her face so that they were a mere inches apart.

"It's simple," Ginny replied, meeting his steady gaze with her determined brown eyes focused on his hopeful green ones. "I want you," she said. Her words sent shivers up and down his spine.

Harry remembered Claire saying something similar to him in the kitchen earlier, but he was certain that it didn't have the effect on him that Ginny did when she said it. At that moment, Harry knew that he wanted Ginny Weasley, too.

Instead of kissing her he pulled her close and held on with all his might. It felt nice to cling to one another. Harry was not used to touching or hugging, but he felt as if he could stay like this forever. He gently buried his face in the top of her hair, noticing that her hair smelled of flowers. He marvelled at the texture and how nice it felt on his face. "I want you, too," he whispered. "Only you."

"Why?" Ginny said in a small, faraway voice.

Knocked off balance, Harry pulled away. For a moment he wasn't sure if he had imagined it or if she had really said it. Cautiously, he asked, "Why what?"

"Huh?" she asked stupidly.

Feeling foolish but plunging ahead, Harry answered. "You asked me 'why' and I asked 'why, what?'"

"Oh," she said, looking slightly confused. "I-I hadn't realised I'd said that out loud. I think I'm just puzzled as to why you would want me when you could have someone as beautiful and attractive as Claire." Her eyes, just a moment ago so determined, had returned to their former sadness.

"You're joking," Harry exclaimed incredulously. "Why would you even say something like that?" Was she seriously thinking that he found Claire more attractive than her?

"Don't tease, Harry," Ginny said sounding irritated now. It wasn't a hard question but Harry knew he had to be very careful in his response since it was always very difficult to put his feelings into proper words. He suddenly felt very tongue-tied.

"You really don't know?" he asked.

She shook her head, signalling that he was going to have to try to explain, like it or not. If he was going to fix this, he had to find a way to make her understand.

"Ginny, the only thing Claire Smith has going for her is her beauty. But even that can't hold a candle to yours," he said. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, a nervous habit he'd acquired recently. "You've got so many things that she doesn't. You're genuine, and sweet, and funny – not to mention dead sexy, brave, and one of the kindest people I know. Any wizard would be lucky to have a girl like you. I should be asking myself what you see in me. I'm no Roger Davies or Cedric Diggory, am I?" he said bitterly, almost choking on the last name; somehow he managed to cover it with a small cough, all the while avoiding her eyes.

When he sneaked a look back at her Ginny was gaping with a gobsmacked expression on her freckled face. Her hair, always beautiful, was glowing under the bright moonlight. She watched him for a full minute before she spoke, making Harry break out in a thin sheen of sweat. Finally, to his relief, she spoke, cupping his hand tenderly. The contact made his skin tingle and his face flush. "Harry," she said gently. "You _know_ that's not true."

He pulled away, irritated. "I'm just an ordinary, skinny wizard with extremely messy hair and glasses who doesn't have much talent – apart from Quidditch and getting out of tight spots, which I'm also _extremely_ good at getting myself into. I'm not exactly a stylish dresser," he said, looking down wryly at his old clothes, "and I have a nasty tendency to break the rules. Just ask anyone at school who knows me… I'm a moody, self-centred prat who can't even manage one evening without getting myself into trouble. What could you possibly see in a guy like me?"

Ginny smiled, making his insides jump fiercely. "Harry… you're kind, and brave, and noble. You care more about others than yourself, you have the sexiest smile on Earth, and I happen to like your messy hair and glasses. Although," she said with a sly smile, "I do happen to agree with you about the clothes – you _do_ have a horrible sense of style. How do you pick your clothes?"

They laughed together for a few moments before she continued. "I've always found you much more attractive than any other guy in school, including Roger Davies, Cedric Diggory, Victor Krum, or Michael Corner… and not just because of your name. It's _you_, Harry. All of you."

"You really like my smile?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"It's the sexiest one on Earth - didn't you hear me?" she said, drawing closer.

"You have a pretty nice smile, too Miss Weasley," he said, hovering close to her lips.

"Is that so, Mr. Potter?" she said, breaking out into the very smile he found so appealing.

Harry nodded and drew even closer. "But that's not the thing I find most attractive," he said teasingly, wanting desperately to end this torture for the both of them and get on with it.

"And what would that be?" she asked with hitched breath. Harry thought he might die from the sweetness of it. He leaned in close to her ear and nipped the tender flesh there with his teeth, revelling in the tiny sound of surprise and pleasure the action produced.

He was just about to tell her exactly what he loved about her body when a loud _'pop' _sounded from right in front of them. Both teenagers jumped and Harry whipped out his wand, pointing it in the direction of the unmistakable sound of someone Apparating. He silently thanked himself for his foresight in keeping his wand with him instead of stowing it away with the others.

"Wh-who's there!" he yelled out into the blackness tentatively, trying to cover Ginny as much as possible with his body in case the invisible Apparator started throwing curses. "Show yourself!"

"Blimey, boy! Put that thing away… it's only me," a disembodied voice said from somewhere right in front of them. "Do you want the Muggles to see?"

"Mundungus?" Harry asked warily, not withdrawing his wand. "Is that you?" Behind him, Ginny seemed to relax slightly.

"Tha's right. I 'ave a message from Dumbledore for you lot."

"You do?" Harry said, surprised that Dumbledore would be sending him a message at all, much less through the Order. This couldn't be good news.

"Tha's what I said, was't it," Mundungus grumbled his head suddenly appearing in mid-air.

"Well, go on," Harry said impatiently.

"Seems to be some activity with the Dementors. He, er… wants you to stay put in the house fer now. Says to make certain everythin's secure and wait fer instructions. He, uh… knows about your company and wants the Muggles stay put too fer now. He's 'fraid You-Know-Who's gonna make a move and he wants to keep you kids safe."

Ginny groaned. "Does that mean Mum and Dad know that we're here?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Mundungus pulled the invisibility cloak down from his head and flashed them a toothless grin. "'Fraid so missy," Mundungus told her. "Molly was hopping mad, I'll tell you, but she wants you all to stay here and keep in the house until we know what's goin' on. I 'ave to go, but Figgy's keeping watch and she'll get in touch with us right away if there's trouble. In the meantime, Dumbledore needs us to check some things out."

"Is that all?" Harry asked just to make sure Dung hadn't forgotten something. He lowered his wand but did not put it away despite the warning from Dung about his nosey neighbours seeing. That was the least of his worries.

"Listen up, kiddies," Mundungus said in a confidential tone of voice. "Dumbledore says to watch for anything unusual and be on guard fer anything strange or out of the ordinary. If you see anything, he wants you lot to use _any_ means necessary to protect yourselves. Forget the underage restriction tonight. You have some over-age wizards in your group and they know you have company. He's contacted the Ministry, so you won't be gettin' any owls from them tonight, so feel free to use magic without being afraid you'll be getting' a letter. The powers that be at the Ministry of Magic are bein' much more co-operative since the last time, now tha' they know You-Know-Who is back. Dumbledore just doesn't want you to take any chances, boy. I have to go now… remember to call Figgy if you need anything. And don't leave the house, if you know what's good for you! Have fun, kiddies."

His head promptly disappeared and Harry and Ginny heard another loud _'pop'_ signalling that he was gone. Harry realised suddenly that Mundungus hadn't told him how to get in touch with Mrs. Figg if there was trouble. Should he telephone or just yell out into the darkness? If there was trouble, what could the old Squib do, anyway? He had the distinct impression that they were on their own for awhile.

Ginny scowled at Harry, shaking her head as they got up to re-enter the house. "Mum's going to kill me."

"Maybe it won't be _that_ bad," Harry told her reassuringly, all the while knowing full well what Mrs. Weasley's temper was legendary.

"Harry, you know what Mum's like," she exclaimed ruefully. "I'll be lucky to get out of my room by Christmas, much less in time to meet the Hogwarts Express."

"Don't worry, I'll come and break you out if that happens," he said, laughing.

"Promise?" She stopped just inside the door and turned to look him full in the face. Harry noted the hard, determined look on her face and knew instinctively that she wanted to kiss him again before they went back into the living room and broke the news to the others.

"I promise," he whispered just before obliging her with another snogging session that had her pressed against the door yet again, delaying them from breaking the news to the others for a bit longer that they were now, essentially, under house arrest until further notice.

After Harry pulled himself away from the beautiful red-headed temptress, he entered the living room with the sole purpose of disbanding this little party and confiscating the alcohol. He wasn't sure what to do about the Muggles, but obviously they couldn't leave.

Mundungus had said that the Dementors were on the move and that only meant one thing – trouble. His first priority was to gather all of his friends and fill them in on the new turn of events. This meant that the witches and wizards in the group needed to formulate some kind of plan to protect themselves in case of an attack, and keep the Muggles here. He was also worried about the skill level of those present. They had all been in the DA, but from what he could recall each had had varying levels of success with the Patronus Charm. None of them, save him, had ever had to cast a true Patronus in the presence of a real Dementor. From his experiences in the past, Harry knew that if they were attacked by Dementors they would need strong defences to ward off the Azkaban guards.

Harry decided that since he had essentially been given the green light as far as magic was concerned, they might as well take advantage of the situation. Therefore, once the Muggles were occupied his first order of business was to get with each of them in turn and assess their ability to produce an adequate Patronus, as well as basic protection spells. He wanted to be ready in case of an all out attack, and it wasn't in his nature to sit by idly and do nothing. He had full confidence in _his_ ability to produce a Patronus, but he was not quite as certain of the others.

Harry knew that his biggest obstacle was going to be Dudley. His cousin would not take kindly to Harry's orders to confiscate the alcohol, or to keep everyone under lock and key. His resistance and hatred of Harry could potentially lead to a scene that Harry would rather avoid. The last thing Harry wanted right now was a fight with his obnoxious cousin, although he had no objections to hexing Dudley in order to get what he wanted. Dumbledore _had_ said "use any means necessary", after all. It was true that Harry had promised not to use magic on Dudley, but in times like these one could not afford to stick to honourable intentions. Harry resolved that if Dudley needed to be dealt with, then he, Harry, would deal with the big oaf. Besides that, Dudley had it coming, as far as Harry was concerned, after what he had tried to pull with Ginny.

Finding Fred and George was easy. They were in the middle of the living room, entertaining the group of teenagers present with a serious of off-colour jokes that had the crowd hooting with laughter. Harry was amused to note that even Hermione was smiling slightly, although he wasn't sure if her good humour had to do with the twins, or their younger brother who she happened to be curled up next to on the sofa. The two looked very cosy, in Harry's opinion.

As soon as there was a lull in the conversation, Harry and Ginny approached the twins. "Might we have a word with you?" Harry asked as casually as possible, so as to not attract attention from the group of Muggles in the room. Harry was slightly relieved to find that Dudley, Claire, and the others were still nowhere to be seen.

"Sure, sure," George said, grinning. "You two kiss and make up?" he asked as they moved off to a more private place.

Ginny blushed. "Not that it's any of your business George, but yes, we did work some things out," she told him.

"So, when's the wedding? Mum already has it all planned out, you know," Fred said, winking.

"Down to the types of flowers Ginny will carry and who will serve the punch," George agreed.

Impatiently, Harry cut in – they didn't have time for this nonsense. "Listen up you two," he said in what he hoped was his most authoritative voice. "We have a problem. Ginny, can you please tell Ron and Hermione to join us so that I only have to say this once?"

"I'll be right back," she said, moving off to collect Harry's closest friends but before she left she warned her brothers. "Listen to him, you gits. This is important Order business."

Immediately the twins' demeanour changed from jovial to serious. Once Ron and Hermione joined them, confusion dominating their faces, Harry filled the small group in on what Mundungus had said.

Hermione gasped fearfully. "Dementors? Are you sure? How many, Harry?"

"That's all I know, Hermione," Harry told her. "The point is, we need to be ready to defend ourselves in case of an attack. Dumbledore said that he knows Fred, George, and the others are here. He wants us to keep everyone here and locked in the house until they contact us. His message said to use any means necessary to defend ourselves, and Dung said we can get even away with doing underage magic just for tonight."

"Won't we get into trouble?" Ron asked.

"According to Mundungus," Ginny answered, "Dumbledore's fixed it so that we won't be getting any notices tonight."

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, earning him a reproachful look from Hermione.

"Honestly, Ron," she huffed, stamping her foot impatiently. "Grow up!"

Ignoring them, Harry continued. "I've been thinking…" Harry said slowly. All eyes turned towards him, their undisputed leader. "As soon as it's safe, I'd like to see where everyone is on casting a decent Patronus. That way, if there is a Dementor attack, we'll have a better idea of who should defend us and who should stay behind to watch our backs. I think we need to have a DA meeting here, tonight, as soon as the Muggles go to sleep. They'll have to stay here tonight but I think I have enough sleeping draught to knock them till morning."

"Sounds like a plan, but we may not need as much of that draught as you think," Fred said. "I think your cousin and his friends are getting totally pissed all on their own and I doubt it'll be long before they pass out from… over-indulgence." He grinned broadly, winking at Fred, and Harry had the distinct impression that they'd been up to something mischievous, but at the moment he didn't care to know.

As agreed, the group broke apart. Each had their own individual tasks to do. Hermione and Ginny were to collect the wands from the cupboard and redistribute them to their owners. Fred and George were to fill in Lee, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia on the development. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron had the task of rounding up the Muggles and gathering them all in one room so they could keep an eye on them. All-in-all, Harry felt that he and Ron had the worse end of the deal.

Just as they entered into the living room, Dudley and company chose that moment to make their appearances back into the house. Harry noticed a pungent odour rolling off the Muggles and wrinkled his nose in disgust. They were all glassy-eyed and definitely high on something. Harry shook his head – could this get any worse?

Malcolm and Dennis were teasing Claire, who was complaining loudly about seeing a filthy cat chasing a rodent near the trash bins. Apparently, the boys had seen nothing and clearly thought that Claire was having hallucinations from whatever they had been doing out back. Harry thought that, from the looks of her, the boys might be right. Claire was having a hard time standing up and walking a straight line. Harry noticed Dudley look around the room and take stock of the situation. It was obvious that he immediately noticed the serious attitudes and fervent whispers of the witches and wizards among the group.

Dudley caught sight of Harry and made a shaky bee line for him, a menacing look in his large piggy eyes. "Potter!" he half bellowed, half sneered. "What are you and your freaky friends up to? Not planning on stealing the silver, are they? I wouldn't put it past them. Mum and Dad always said your kind were always up to no good."

Trying to be as cautious as possible given the seriousness of the situation, Harry attempted to find a way to convey the gist of the situation to Dudley without coming out and saying too much in front of the Muggles. "The fact of the matter is, Dud," Harry said casually, trying desperately to communicate with his eyes, "It seems we have a bit of trouble – trouble similar to what happened last summer. You do remember what happened on Wisteria Lane, don't you?"

Dudley didn't respond. He swayed on his feet drunkenly and almost toppled over, never even acknowledging that he had heard a thing.

"Earth to Dudders, did you hear me?" Harry insisted angrily, forcing his cousin's face back to his own with his hand.

"Huh?" Dudley slurred, trying unsuccessfully to escape Harry's grasp. "Last summer… yep…"

Just then Ginny stepped into the room and Dudley perked up as if he had been given a Pepper-up Potion. "Decided you want a real man yet, Red?" he practically shouted at her.

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth open in shock, but Dudley was not finished. "You know you're too beautiful to be with a freak like Potter, even if you are a…" he paused to whisper loudly, "…_witch_." There was no doubt he was horribly intoxicated; otherwise Harry knew his cousin would never risk saying these things out loud in front of his friends. "Why not let me show you what a _normal_ bloke can do."

He lurched forward and attempted to grab Ginny around the waist. Instead, he ended up stumbling and falling to his knees as Ginny effectively side-stepped to avoid his grasp. Dudley, however, was not fazed. He continued to stare in a lustful, hideous way that made Harry's blood boil.

Walking up to where Dudley was sprawled on the floor, Harry stepped between him and Ginny, protecting her from Dudley's gawking. He crossed his arms and peered down at his cousin in pity as Dudley tried unsuccessfully to right himself.

"Dudley," Harry said as calmly as he could. "Leave her alone."

"'Fraid I'll take your girl away, huh, Potter?" Dudley said with an ugly, drunken sneer plastered on his large face.

"As if you could," Ginny scoffed from behind Harry, peeking around him to look Dudley up and down in revulsion.

"Come on, love," Dudley whined as he finally stumbled to his feet, shoving Harry out of the way roughly and invaded Ginny's personal space. "You know you want me as much as I want you. What could you possibly see in _him_, anyway?"

Harry made a move to interfere but Ginny held out a hand to stop him. She looked Dudley straight in the eye. "Harry has more honour in his little finger than you do in your entire fat body, you pig. You're a big, spoilt, nothing Muggle with no manners and a nasty superiority complex. You're pathetic!"

With amusement, Harry saw Dudley falter in confusion but he was not dissuaded easily. His tiny little mind could obviously not comprehend how anyone could choose Harry over him. Aggressively, he tried to grab Ginny again and this time succeeded. Ginny struggled to fight him off as Dudley attempted to hold her and steady himself at the same time.

"Come on Red, let me show you what you've been miss'n."

"Get away from me!" Ginny yelled angrily, struggled to get free.

Harry moved to rescue her but before he could intervene Dudley found himself being blasted backwards about ten feet in the air. Luckily, the Muggles were too shocked to take note of Ginny quickly hiding her wand from view as she dusted herself off and straightened her clothes.

"That was bloody brilliant, Ginny!" he said enthusiastically.

"Thanks," Ginny blushed. "You don't grow up with six older brothers and not learn a thing or two."

"He's not moving for awhile, I'd say," Ron, who had observed the whole thing, said wryly, casting a murderous glance at Harry's fat cousin who was sprawled unconscious on the floor. "Good one, Ginny. Wish I'd had the pleasure first."

"Next time, Ron, I'd be happy to oblige," she grinned cheekily. "Provided it was _you_ he was attempting to feel up!"

"When you put it like that," Ron grimaced, "that's quite all right."

"What did you do to him, you tart?" Claire shrieked. She had rushed over to Dudley's unconscious body where it lay crumpled in a lumpy heap.

The commotion had brought everyone into the room together and the two groups were eying each other distastefully. With the exception of the Muggle girls (minus Claire), Dudley's friends had been ready to fight but, after seeing what Ginny had done to Dudley, they were now looking a bit more reluctant. Murderous, but reluctant.

Ginny fixed Claire with a cool, dangerous stare. "He got what he deserved and, if I were you, I'd watch who I called a tart." Harry could see her fingering the pocket where her wand was hiding.

"This isn't doing anyone any good," Hermione admonished, stepping in before things got out of control. "We have a problem and we need a solution. This is serious." She glared at Harry, Ginny, and the others to drive her point home.

"What's wrong?" one of the Muggle twins asked.

"There's an escaped convict on the loose and he's been spotted in this area," Hermione said without batting an eye. "I just heard it on the radio. "The neighbourhood is under a lockdown and no one can leave."

"Is it that same prisoner from a few years back?" Mary asked. "They never caught him, you know, but I haven't heard anything about him for ages. His last name was Black and he killed a whole lot of people, I think."

A pain ripped through Harry's heart and Ginny gasped. Hermione faltered. "Umm… I don't think I caught the name, but that does sound familiar." Harry shot her a sharp look and she shrugged helplessly.

"Sirius Black?" Angelina asked, glancing at the Hogwarts students, her face ashen. "Wasn't he the-"

"Yes," Hermione said quickly.

"That's the one," Mary said happily. "I remember it was all over the news the summer before last. Every once in awhile the media will run an update, but he's never been caught. Do you suppose he's around here?"

Harry's mouth was dry and he couldn't breathe but he managed a quiet response. "I don't think we have to worry about that."

"Harry's right," Hermione said. "As long as we stay inside, I'm sure everything will be all right." Turning to Harry, she asked nervously, wringing her hands, "Can I, um… see you in the other room?" Harry nodded. "You too, Ron. And Ginny, why don't you come as well."

Harry whispered to Fred and George to fill in the others on the lie while they were out of the room. He also asked them to distract the Muggles without getting into a fight or making them even more suspicious than they already were. They nodded and set about their task while the other four moved off into the kitchen.

"I need some parchment and a quill, Harry," Hermione said as soon as they were alone.

"I think my aunt has a tablet and some ballpoint pens in that drawer over there," he answered, gesturing to the spot near where she was standing.

Hermione pulled them out from the drawer and sat down in a chair at the table, poised to write. Ron looked at the strange pen and paper with open curiosity. "Where's the ink bottle?" he asked.

Hermione and Ginny laughed, and even Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Honestly, Ron," Ginny said. "You should have taken Muggle studies. The ink is inside."

Ron picked up one of the spare pens Hermione had lain down and examined it. "Wicked!"

"We need to decide on a plan of action," Hermione told them as she unceremoniously jerked the pen out of Ron's grasp. "I'm worried that this Dementor activity might just be a front for a Death Eater attack. With all the adults busy, I think it would be a perfect opportunity for Voldemort to make a move."

Harry hadn't thought of that, but he dismissed it almost immediately. "Dumbledore said that he cast protection spells on this house. I don't think Voldemort can touch me here."

"But he broke through them to invade your mind, earlier," Hermione pointed out. "Who knows what he's capable of doing."

"Do you know any good protection spells that would alert us to magical activity outside the house?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I know I've read something somewhere," she said, knitting her eyebrows in concentration. "Let me think on it and get back to you."

"If we could ward the house from the inside with some kind locking spells – something that _Alohamora_ won't work on… Any ideas?" he asked the group.

"Let's ask the twins," Ginny suggested. "Last year they locked themselves in their bedroom with a spell that even Mum couldn't break. I think that Bill gave them an idea with one of his stories and they somehow worked out how to do it. Mum knows all the lock-breaking spells and she couldn't do a thing about this one. The twins were in so much hot water when they came out, that they had to do dish duty for a month!"

"Yeah," Ron chuckled. "After two weeks they got tired of it and started to slack off. Then Mum cut off their food. She absolutely refused to cook for them. Fred and George saw reason very fast and finished out the month without complaining."

"Okay, sounds like a plan," Harry agreed.

Hermione scribbled furiously then handed the paper over to Harry. "Check this over and make sure I didn't forget anything."

Harry thought this ridiculous since Hermione never forgot a thing. He tried to shove it away. "I'm sure it's fine, Hermione."

Hermione beamed. "Ron and I will round up the others and send them in a few at a time. You and Ginny fill them in on everything, all right?"

They agreed and temporarily separated. Harry looked over at Ginny, who was staring at him in such a way that he felt himself flush all over. She looked so appealing to him that he immediately thought of pulling her away to a private place and….

He sighed. They had other things to take care of now; snogging Ginny would have to wait.

Ginny smiled impishly and moved her foot on top of Harry's. He jumped as her bare foot began creeping up the leg of his trousers. Immediately Harry thought he might loose his mind with the sweet torture. As if reading his thought, she asked in a casual, flirtatious tone, "Anything the matter, Harry?" It was maddening the power she had over him.

"Err… not really." He could tell she wasn't buying it.

"Are you certain?" she said seriously, knowing full well what she was doing was making him insane. Grinning wickedly, she moved behind him and placed both hands on his shoulders, beginning to gently knead the muscles in an effort to loosen him up a bit. "You're so tense," she whispered in his ear. "Let me see what I can do about that." She continued her ministrations, occasionally running her hands through his hair and massaging his scalp and temples.

Harry had never felt such heaven before in all his life. He closed both eyes and surrendered to the feeling that she was producing all over his body. He could not recall anyone ever massaging his shoulders, neck, and head like this and wondered exactly how he had ever managed without it. As Ginny pressed down on the muscles, Harry felt much of the tension that he had been holding inside begin to drain away like a dam that had finally burst and he let out a low moan.

"Oi! Harry, Ginny!" one of the twins bellowed from the other room. Ginny and Harry both jumped at being interrupted.

From the other room came another bellow, this time from the other twin. "Stop snogging already. I don't fancy walking in on the two of you doing _that_. Let us know when it's safe to enter."

Ginny and Harry exchanged guilty looks. They hadn't been snogging, but they had been getting there fast. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck, swivelling around slightly to look up at Ginny. "Thanks, again Gin," he said sincerely. "That's two I owe you tonight."

She leaned in close to his ear so that Harry could feel her hot breath on his neck. "Don't worry…" she whispered, gently kissing his exposed skin near the sensitive part of his neck next to his earlobe. His body immediately reacted to her intimate touch and he regretted that he had to admit the twins at all. He'd much rather spend the rest of the evening locked in here with his new girlfriend than planning defences against Dark creatures and Voldemort.

"…I'm keeping track."

Harry exhaled deeply and tried to calm his body as she moved away with cat-like grace to open the door for her mischievous, teasing brothers.


	15. Snakes and Rats

**Disclaimer:**   
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter Fifteen**

"**Snakes and Rats"**

"We wanted you to know that we put the spell on the house, Harry, in case you were wondering," Fred said when he and George entered the kitchen.

"From the looks of things here, though," George commented, "I don't think he was concerned about that, Fred."

They both crossed their arms and surveyed Harry and Ginny critically. Harry's face wore the tell-tale signs of embarrassment at having been caught doing something with their sister that they probably wouldn't have approved of, while Ginny's face was angry at having been interrupted.

"What do you want?" she asked irritably. "I'm sure you didn't come all the way in here just to tell us that."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, little sister," Fred said. "We don't care what you and Harry get up to, as long as it stays nice and innocent. Snog all you want for all we care. But, now that you mention it, we did have something we wanted to run by you."

"Well… go on," Ginny told them, the edge of irritation still evident in her voice.

"We think you may have a serious problem on your hands with the Muggles," George said seriously.

"What now?" Harry asked tiredly. It didn't surprise him in the least that Dudley and his friends were being a problem.

"Mind you, we don't have a problem with tipping back a few ourselves," George told them. "But we think the fat git and his friends have taken it a bit far, even by our standards."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the group that went outside is acting very strangely," Fred said. "They're all giggly and happy." He made a sour face.

"So?" Ginny asked. "What's wrong with that?"

Fred looked pointedly at Harry. "Have _you_ ever seen your cousin happy?"

"No," Harry answered truthfully.

"It's not pretty," George said ruefully. "And that girl, Claire, is hitting on every guy out there. I wouldn't go near there if I were you, Harry."

Harry glanced at Ginny, who was frowning. "Thanks, I won't," he said gratefully. "I thought I could test everyone on their Patronus Charm in here anyway, if you can keep everyone else entertained out there."

Fred and George grinned at each other conspiratorially. "We can do that," they said in unison.

"Okay then," Harry said. "Let's see what you've got." He pointed his wand at the door and muttered a locking spell.

Fred and George were each able to produce, in turn, identical tigers that—while not corporeal like Harry's stag—looked incredibly real. They exchanged supercilious looks and bowed deeply to Ginny's applause. Harry was impressed by the fact that the twins had obviously practiced, thinking that if they had only put as much effort into their schoolwork their mother would have been much happier.

The twins left and, one by one, the others entered the kitchen. Hermione came in to help, since she had already produced a perfect Patronusinthe DA months before.Ron also came in to watch, but Harry suspected it had more to do with Hermione than casting spells. Together the four of them took the others through their paces.

Harry was proud to see Angelina produce something that very much resembled a panther, while Lee's Patronus took on the slightly recognizable form of a bird. Alicia, surprisingly, produced a perfect silvery hawk Patronus that soared through the air over the heads of the teens gathered in the room. She seemed as stunned as Harry.

"That's the first time I've been able to get it to look like anything!" she exclaimed. "Before, it just looked like a blob of mist."

Katie, however, had the most trouble. Her Patronus had no form at all, although she did manage to produce silvery mist. She laughingly said it was a big improvement over nothing and seemed pleased enough with her progress.

"Okay," Harry said, clapping his hands excitedly after Katie left. "That just leaves the three of you."

Ron volunteered to go first. Harry knew that he'd had trouble with this spell last time they had practiced and wondered if his friend would be too disappointed if he couldn't do it.

To his surprise Ron seemed to exude confidence. He held his wand at the ready, closed his eyes, and broke out into a rather goofy grin before bellowing the incantation. Out popped a small Jack Russell terrier that Harry thought suited him perfectly. He seemed exceptionally pleased with himself and even directed it to chase its own tail, which earned him a hearty laugh from Ginny and Hermione. Blushing, he ended the spell and stepped back to allow Hermione her turn.

Stepping up next to Harry, Hermione took a moment to produce a happy thought before saying clearly, "_Expecto Patronum_." Immediately, Hermione's silver otter shot out of the tip of her wand and began to dance through the air, guided by her delicate wrist movements. She extinguished the spell and smiled happily at Ron, who blushed even harder. Harry had the impression her happy thought might have included his best friend, but he wasn't certain.

Finally, it was Ginny's turn. Harry held his breath waiting to see what would happen. He didn't understand why he was so nervous for her—none of the others had affected him like this. He just wanted Ginny to succeed so badly that he found himself with butterflies in his stomach. He knew she had managed mist last year, but there had not been much of an opportunity to practice since then.

She hesitated and Harry could imagine the thoughts she was sifting through to find her happiest memory. He hoped it had something to do with their first kiss upstairs in his bedroom.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

The thing that shot out of her wand shocked not only Harry, but everyone in the room. A massive snake slithered on the floor, rearing its enormous head and looking around menacingly. It was about 15 feet in length and—most surprising of all—was as solid as Harry's stag. Ginny Weasley had produced a corporeal Patronus.

Harry looked at the great reptile with wide eyes. It was the most impressive bit of magic he had seen from a student yet, and he was absolutely stunned that Ginny had done it. The fact that it was a snake did not bother him in the least. Ron and Hermione, however, gasped and moved away quickly. Hermione let out a small scream when the giant snake looked her way—flicking its tongue and hissing softly.

Because he was able to understand snake language, Harry interpreted the snake's actions as confusion and was not in the least concerned that it might attack anyone. His panicked friends, however, were making matters worse by increasing its confusion and agitating it further. Harry was bewildered to see Ginny doing absolutely nothing to control the snake. She was just standing there staring at the snake, her body tense and rigid. She looked petrified.

Slowly the snake turned towards her and looked at her questioningly. _"__Wwhatt__wwould__youu__haave__mee__doo__misssstresss__?"_ Harry heard the snake hiss.

To his surprise, she replied in a timid voice, "Nothing. Just go away."

Obediently, the beast dissolved into mist and disappeared.

Once the snake was gone Ginny looked around the silent room, as if expecting to be congratulated like everyone. "What?" she managed to ask shakily. "Wasn't that good enough?"

"That—that was… perfect," he managed to say. "But Ginny… I think we need to talk." he said firmly, striding over to her purposefully.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sounding very much like a little girl being reprimanded by her mother. "What'd I do?"

"You're a Parselmouth," he stated calmly.

Looking aghast, Ginny said, "I'm not!"

"Yes," Harry said, sympathetically, "you _are_."

Ginny opened her mouth, most likely to protest, but no sound came out.

Harry continued looking at Ginny patiently. "What did it say?" he asked.

"It asked me what I wanted it to do," she replied, "and I answered 'nothing, just go away'."

"That's right," Harry said. "That's what I heard, too." He glanced at Ron and Hermione who had decided to remain mute and let Harry handle this. Hermione shook her head slightly to indicate they had heard nothing, her eyes wide. "I think Ron and Hermione heard it hissing and then you speaking Parseltongue, right?" Both shook their heads affirmatively.

"But—but, that's not possible," Ginny stuttered lamely. "I can't speak Parseltongue."

"Has this ever happened before?" he asked. "Before tonight, I mean?"

"Of course not," she bristled. "Do you think I make it a habit of going around and talking to bloody snakes?"

"Haven't you, before?" he answered curtly.

She managed one word. "Tom." She sunk to the floor, stunned.

To Harry, that word said everything he needed to know. His heart ached for her. Voldemort had stripped her of her innocence and left her scarred, just as he had Harry. Ginny's scars may not have been as visible as his lightening bolt, but she had been affected by him in some ways more deeply than even Harry had. He kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. For no other reason than this, Harry wanted to kill the monster that had taken away her childhood.

Harry bent down and reached out a comforting hand, placing it on her shoulder. Ginny jerked away from him. "Don't," she said bitterly.

"Ginny…" he said apologetically. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Why would you be sorry?" she spit out bitterly. "You didn't set a monster loose on the school. I did that all on my own."

"Ginny," Harry said passionately, "_you_ didn't do that. Voldemort—" Here he paused because Ginny flinched for the first time that evening at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, her bravery apparently gone. Realizing this, Harry said quickly, "—I mean, Tom did those things."

"No, Harry," Ginny sobbed, "I did t-that. Yes, he was using me, but it was still me t-that allowed him! I was just t-too weak to resist. Do you have any idea what's its like t-to know that something so evil has been inside you?" she yelled. "To know that you're responsible for something so hideous… t-that some of Him will remain in you forever, n-no matter what you do to try to forget or move on?" She sniffled and didn't even seem to notice Hermione and Ron slipping out quietly, leaving them alone.

"Y-you h-hate me now, d-don't y-you?" she stuttered through her tears.

"If I hated you, Gin," Harry said tightly, "then I'd have to hate myself. Everything you said about Voldemort being inside you… that applies to me as well."

"I-I haven't told anyone this," he whispered, still not exactly 'seeing' her. "Dumbledore is the only one who knows because he was there."

He paused and took a deep breath, pushing a few stray hairs out of his eyes. Harry felt as if the weight of it would break him but somehow he knew if he just said the words, his load would lessen. Where to begin?

'_Just tell her, Harry!_' his mind screamed. _'She'll understand._'

Another small part of his brain, however, was whispering, _'What if she doesn't understand? What if she hates you or thinks you weak? What then?'_

Silently he stared at her lightly freckled face and hopeful eyes, and suddenly he had no qualms about sharing this with her. He knew she'd understand that perhaps she was the only one who really _could_ understand.

"You see, Ginny… I know what it's like to have Voldemort inside me because he tried to possess me, too. At the Ministry of Magic." Even though he had tripped all over his words, he felt proud of himself for getting that far.

Ginny gasped, "Oh, Harry! I knew something… but I had no idea!"

Harry heard the pity in her voice but, strangely it did not anger him. Instinctively he knew that Ginny did not judge him or feel sorry for him; she sympathized with him. It was like they were kindred spirits and understood exactly what the other had experienced without either of them having to actually voice it aloud.

"Do—do you want to talk about it?" she asked hesitantly.

"Not really," he confided, sighing with relief that he even had gotten that far. "But—but maybe I should. Hermione says I hold too much in."

"Hermione is very wise," Ginny said, a twisted smile playing on her lips. She moved beside him and leaned up against him.

They scooted together across the floor so that their backs could rest on the back of the cupboard and Ginny snuggled into Harry's warm arms like she had been doing it her whole life. Harry marvelled at how nice it felt to hold her and how right it seemed. The close, intimate contact was very soothing and helped to calm both of them.

It wasn't long before Harry had confessed everything; how he had run after Bellatrix after she killed Sirius, how he had tried to the Cruciatus Curse on her. She didn't seem shocked or angry that he had used an Unforgivable, but listened with rapt attention.

"Then what happened, Harry?" she asked.

"Well, we fought," he said matter-of-factly. Pulling a face, he clarified. "Well… mostly she fought and I ducked, but I did manage to get a few good ones in," he said proudly. "She wanted me to give her the Prophecy—she didn't know that it had already smashed. I told her that it was gone, and that—that's when Voldemort showed up. He was very angry that it had been smashed. He'd been trying to get it for months."

Ginny gasped. "Were you frightened?"

"Honestly, I didn't have time to be frightened. I guess I was too much in shock at actually seeing him there in the Ministry of Magic. It—it was like my nightmares come true."

There was a tense silence during which Ginny became pensive. "What does he look like now, Harry? What's he like?"

"He's terrible, Ginny—not even human." He felt her tension and looked down at her questioningly. "Are you sure you want to know all this?"

She met his gaze bravely—probably more bravely than she actually felt. "I need to know," she stated simply.

"Well," Harry began timidly, "if you're sure…." Taking a breath, he began to describe the face of his enemy. "He's very snake-like. You see, he went through all kinds of dark magic to try to make himself immortal and it changed him. He doesn't look anything like the Tom that you and I knew." Harry felt her shudder at the sound of _his_ name and drew her in even closer. "His skin is sort of greyish and stretched and he only has slits for nostrils. But it's his eyes that are the scariest," Harry told her, suppressing his own shudder. "They're so snake-like—red. They seem to look right through you, but they see everything." His voice was hushed… quiet. "I don't know which is worse… his eyes or his laugh," he whispered so softly that Ginny had to strain to hear.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I dream about his laugh," he said. "It's what I hear when the Dementors get too close. I hear him laughing as he kills my Mum, just like he did last year when he came back."

Wanting to get back to the events in June and not lost in the past, Ginny asked, "So what happened after he showed up at the Ministry?"

"He tried to kill me," Harry said without emotion.

"What!" she cried in outrage, pulling away to face him. "How?"

"He told me I'd been a thorn in his side for too long," Harry told her, "and then he pointed his wand at me and started to cast the Killing Curse. That's when Dumbledore showed up."

"Oh, Harry! That must have been awful!"

"Tell you the truth, Gin I was so much in shock I wasn't feeling much at the time except grief over Sirius. Part of me just gave up," he said ruefully.

"So what happened after Dumbledore showed up?" she asked.

"They fought—Voldemort and Dumbledore," he said, excited at the memory of the fantastic duel. "You should have seen Dumbledore, Ginny! There's a reason they say he is the only one Voldemort ever feared. He was brilliant! He transfigured the statues in the fountain to deflect curses and get help—that's how Fudge and the others ended up showing up. Kept calling him Tom, which really infuriated him!" Harry chuckled wryly at the memory.

Drawing himself back into his dark memories, he frowned. "Anyway, one of the statues shielded me and it was hard to see everything, but for a minute it looked as if Dumbledore had won. I was trying to come out from behind the statue when it happened. I-I felt him enter my body and… and—he possessed me." He stopped suddenly, not knowing what else to tell her.

"What do you remember?" she asked quietly.

He thought hard, trying to recall the experience. It took a minute before he spoke because he had tried so hard to forget the memories that they were buried deep in his subconscious and he had to find them.

"I remember a lot of pain. It felt as if a giant snake was squeezing me to death and I couldn't think properly. But I remember it felt as if we were one person, like we were two halves of a whole. I remember he used my mouth to taunt Dumbledore to kill me and at that moment part of me wanted him to do it. I don't know what I said aloud but my mind was begging Dumbledore to put me out of my misery. The pain was so intense. It was worse than the Cruciatus, if you can imagine…."

"I can't imagine," she admitted, shivering.

Harry pulled her closer. "I remember thinking that if only Dumbledore would kill us, it would all be over and I would be with Sirius. I'd be happy."

"So what happened next?"

"Nothing," he answered. "All of a sudden, he was gone and I was left shaking on the floor, totally spent. That's when everyone showed up, and then Dumbledore conjured a Portkey to take me back to his office at Hogwarts. I waited there while he sorted things out at the Ministry and you know the rest.

"So, anyway," Harry said, sitting up to look at her properly, "If you hate yourself, then you have to hate me as well. He's a part of me, Ginny. We're connected by this," he told her, tapping his scar. "I'll never be free of him until one of us is dead."

"No, Harry," Ginny said confidently. "You'll be free of him one day, I'm sure of it. You beat him once and you can beat him again."

Wanting to get back to her predicament, Harry brought the focus back around to why they were discussing this in the first place.

"The point is, having a part of him in you is terrible," he told her. "But if you spend time blaming yourself then he wins. So what if your Patronus is a snake and you can talk to it? Patronus Charms are meant to protect; that one you cast earlier was a damn fine Patronus, Ginny – one of the best I've ever seen. Don't let him take that away from you. I know how you feel about the Parseltongue thing… I felt the same way when I found out. But it turned out to be a good thing. It helped me save you, and I'd sooner quit playing Quidditch altogether than spend time regretting that," he teased.

"So, you're equating my life to the game of Quidditch, are you?" she bantered playfully.

"Best game there is," he laughed, poking her in the ribs.

"Absolutely," she agreed. Growing solemn, she caught his hand. "Thanks, Harry."

He flashed Ginny a lopsided grin. "No problem, Red," he said teasingly as he fondly ruffled her long mane of ginger hair.

"You'll pay for that, Potter! Or should I start calling you Raven?" she cried as she lunged for him.

"Raven?" he laughed as she dove on top of him, trying to tickle him senseless. "Where'd you get that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry. It's another word for black… as in your hair colour."

Harry tried unsuccessfully to look up. "Oh," he said stupidly.

"I suppose I could start calling you Toad instead then," she mused.

He raised his eyebrow questioningly. Raven he got, but Toad?

"You know," she grinned. "'His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad…'"

"Don't you even—" Harry warned. "Ron would have me for breakfast if he heard you call me that!"

"In that case _Toad_—" she began before Harry was on top of her tickling her mercilessly. They spent a few carefree moments laughing and having a few minutes of carefree fun before they sobered up enough to face the others.

"What'd you say we go back out there and reassure Ron and Hermione that you're not going to turn into the next Dark Lord?" Harry joked between breaths.

"And who says I'm not?" Ginny shot back, raising an eyebrow indignantly.

"I wouldn't put anything past you," Harry admitted, holding up his hands in surrender, a happy grin on his face.

"Too bad we need to go…." she said, wiggling her finger at him, "…or I'd show you exactly how evil I can be!" She moved in closer, a hard, blazing look on her pretty face.

Harry smiled widely and leaned closer, capturing her mouth with his and abandoning all thoughts of leaving.

Without warning the door swung open and a flustered Hermione tumbled in looking as if she had just seen a ghost.

"Hermione," Harry exclaimed, jumping back. "What's wrong?"

"Ron…" Hermione gasped, trying unsuccessfully to catch her breath, and pointed towards the side hallway where she had come from. "In there—him! _Help_!" she said very fast.

"Hermione," Ginny said, "you have to slow down. We can't understand you!"

"Harry!" Hermione yelled frantically between breaths, clutching his shirt. "You… have… to… help… Ron… catch… him!"

"Him?" Harry asked anxiously. He was at her side in a flash. "Him who?"

She pointed madly towards his old cupboard where Ron's frenzied yelling and the sounds of mops and brooms banging could be heard inside the cupboard.

"S-Scabbers, Harry…" she panted, gulping, swaying a bit from the effort. "Wormtail… is in there!"

"Pettigrew's here?" Harry almost yelled, grabbing hold of Hermione to steady her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," a relieved Hermione said. "We both saw him. He's here. Harry, I'd swear on my life it's him. Ron thinks so too, and he lived with him for years. He even had a silvery-looking front paw, just like the one you said V-Voldemort gave him." She looked at Harry, silently pleading with him to believe her.

Harry squared his shoulders and grabbed his wand, thrusting it in front of him determinedly. If Wormtail was in the house, then they were all in danger.

Wand at the ready, he moved cautiously towards the partially open door but jumped back in surprise as it was thrown open violently. A large red-headed object tumbled out, tackling him. Both boys fell to the ground in a tangled, ungraceful heap.

Panting heavily, Ron reached up on instinct and grabbed Harry violently, raising his fist to fight him off. Harry immediately tried to pull away. He had never seen his best friend so utterly enraged and it almost frightened him. Harry had never known Ron could look so intimidating. Even Draco Malfoy had not elicited this level of rage from Ronald Weasley.

"Gerroff me!" Ron yelled wildly.

"Ron!" Harry yelled back, refraining from slapping him silly. "Sod off! It's only me."

"Harry?" Ron asked, confused. Then, as if it had just occurred to him that this was Harry's house, he shouted in relief and pointed towards the open cupboard door. "Harry! Help me… Scabbers is _here_! We have to find him!"

"Where'd you see him last?" Harry asked quickly, jumping up and grabbing his fallen wand. His instincts told him there was no time to waste.

"He was hiding behind the boxes in the cupboard. I tried to catch him but he was too quick," Ron said jumping to his feet as well. Every fibre of his being seemed to be burning for a fight.

"Dirty rat! Just wait till I get my hands on that bloody traitor! I'll make him _wish_ he had been blown to bits by Sirius' curse!" Ron muttered angrily. Harry had no idea that Ron harboured such ill feelings towards Pettigrew. Then again, Pettigrew as Scabbers _did_ use the generosity of the Weasley family - Ron in particular - to escape detection and hide out for a number of years. They had never discussed it, but Harry reasoned that it was perfectly understandable Ron felt so personally affronted by his former pet's behaviour.

Both Harry and Ron started for the door but were stopped by Hermione's and Ginny's sharp squeals of protest.

"Just what do you two think you're going to do?" Hermione screeched as she tried to restrain them.

Ron pushed her aside gently. "I don't know about Harry, but I have a rat to catch," he answered firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

"Harry," Ginny began protesting weakly. She was abruptly cut off with one angry look of warning.

"Stay here and cover our backs," Harry said evenly. "Better yet… go tell the others what's going on and stay out of the way."

"Harry James Potter!" Ginny yelled angrily, stamping her foot. "Do _not_ treat me like an imbecile! I thought we covered this already!"

Harry found himself irritated by Ginny's outburst. Didn't she realise the danger they were in? If Pettigrew was in the house, then they were all in jeopardy. Harry hated to even think what other surprises Voldemort had in store for them.

"Just go, Ginny!" he growled warningly.

"I'm going with you," Hermione said stubbornly.

Harry and Ron both exchanged meaningful looks. Harry was certain that Ron wanted to keep Hermione out of danger as much as he wanted to protect Ginny. However, neither could forget the many times that Hermione had saved their arses over the years. Hermione's quick thinking and knowledge of spells was definitely good to have handy in a pinch.

"Fine," Harry said definitively. "You can go, Hermione, but Ginny can't."

Noticing the crestfallen look on the Ginny's face, Harry tried to soften his voice. "Listen Ginny, this isn't about you. Someone needs to tell the others what's going on, and Ron, Hermione, and I are used to working together. But if Pettigrew is really in the house, then we're all going to have to pull together to get out of here safely. I don't know what else Voldemort has up his sleeve but I'd bet money we're in for more surprises tonight."

Seeing that she wasn't buying it, he reached out a hand and touched her arm imploringly. "Please do this for me."

That seemed to do the trick. Ginny immediately turned on her heel furiously and ran off down the hallway.

Looking around at his two best friends, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"

"Let's get to it," Ron said resolutely. Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

As one they made their way inside the cramped quarters, Harry slightly in the lead followed by Ron and then Hermione. Harry half expected to see the fully human form of his father's former best friend pointing a wand at him threateningly. Instead, all he saw was a shambles of what had once been a very orderly cupboard.

Mops and brooms were strewn precariously all over the floor and the boxes in the corner were overturned, their contents spilling all over the floor. To Harry's chagrin, the vacuum cleaner looked to be broken. A ridiculous thought popped into his mind and he almost laughed; how was he to do the vacuuming, number 14 on his list of jobs, if it could not be repaired?

Harry forced himself not to think of that and focus on the problem at hand. "Where did you last see him?" he asked Ron again.

"O-over there, under those upturned boxes," Ron said slightly wobbly because he had just caught sight of a rather large spider.

"I'll take that corner," Harry said. "You take the area over by the brooms and mops, Ron. Hermione… you cover the door and see that the rat doesn't escape." They both nodded their agreement.

Harry cautiously tiptoed over to the back of the cupboard, silently thanking his Aunt Petunia for her freakish neatness. Had the room been in the state of a normally messy and packed cupboard, he doubted they would be able to draw the rat out into the open.

Gripping his wand in his hand tightly, Harry used it to poke and prod through the mess that had come from the boxes. Looking out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron had drawn his wand and was doing the same thing. Harry supposed he had been so shocked to see Wormtail earlier that he had not thought to use his wand.

Hermione continued to guard the door and keep a keen eye on the situation. Harry trusted her implicitly to watch their backs.

After about five minutes of searching, both boys became frustrated. Neither had turned up anything. Ron looked at Harry, his eyes wide and pleading. "I swear, Harry, he's here."

"I believe you, Ron," Harry assured him. He saw Ron's features relax slightly at his assurance and trust.

"Maybe he got away while we were talking in the entranceway," Hermione suggested. "He could have transformed and then Disapparated," she reasoned as all three backed out of the room and shut the door.

"'Fraid not Hermione," Fred said from behind them, startling all three.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she spun around.

"Remember that little spell you asked us to perform?" George answered. "Not only does it effectively lock down an area, but it also makes it impossible to Apparate or Disapparate inside the radius of the spell. No one gets in, and no one gets out."

"I never thought of that," Ron said. "Otherwise Mum could have just Apparated right into your room last summer. Brilliant of you, really…." he mused.

"Why thank you, dear brother," George said appreciatively.

"It's good to know our superior intelligence is not going unappreciated," Fred stated with pride.

"Yes, yes," Hermione said impatiently. "But how is the spell reversed? Is it possible that Pettigrew was able to reverse the spell and escape?"

"It's possible," Fred said doubtfully.

"But not probable," George said, shaking his head. "You see, we used a combination of spells to create this one. We were tired of Mum interrupting us while we were in the throes of creation. We needed a spell that would allow us some time and we didn't want it to be easily broken. Mum knows all the existing locking spells and their counter-spells, so we had to get creative."

"This particular spell hasn't been patented yet, so we don't want to say too much…" Fred explained. "But it's sort of like a timed release spell. Once you set it off it has to run its course. While it's in operation, no one gets in but no one can get out either."

"What would happen if something went wrong and one of you needed medical attention?" Harry asked curiously.

"Hmm…" Fred said, exchanging a worried look with his twin. "We never thought of that."

"Good point," George said, looking equally concerned.

"So, just to be clear. What you're saying is that not only can Pettigrew not get out, but neither can we," Hermione said worriedly.

"Ummm, yes?" Fred answered uncertainly.

"Wonderful!" Harry exclaimed, highly annoyed. "And just when did you plan on telling us this?"

"You never asked, did you?" George answered indignantly. "You wanted a locking spell and we provided you with one. How were we to know that a dirty, traitorous rat would go loose in the house?"

"Never mind that," Ron said, cutting him off before he could build himself into a tirade. He knew Fred and George better than anyone except Ginny. When they felt attacked they would defend themselves or each other to the death. "The question is," he asked calmly, "how long will it last?"

"Well," Fred said slowly. "The thing is…."

Harry shook his head wearily. "Do I even want to hear this?" he said in exasperation. He reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Vaguely he was aware that another massive headache was coming on fast.

"The spell, it's…" George paused, "shall we say… unpredictable. It could last two hours or all night."

"You never thought to mention that either," Hermione said angrily. It was a statement laced with sarcasm.

"Again," Fred said defensively, "you never asked."

"Let's go back to the beginning," Harry said as calmly as he could. "We asked you to put a locking spell on the house and you did."

"Correct," Fred said.

"You used an experimental spell that is time released. It covers the whole house for an unspecified amount of time and is very effective against all forms of penetration, including Apparating and Disapparating," he continued.

"Also correct," George said.

"However, what you failed to mention is that there is no counter spell. It must wear off on its own. Furthermore, you have no idea how long it will last," he clarified. "In the meantime, we are stuck inside the house with a murderer on the loose and with no way to escape."

Fred and George exchanged worried looks. "Yep," they said together. "That about covers it."

"One more thing," Harry said, perfectly serious. "Is there anymore Firewhiskey left? I think I need a drink."

**A/N: Thank you Arnel for your fast and excellent beta services.**


	16. The Search for Wormtail

Disclaimer:  
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter Sixteen**

"**The Search for Wormtail"**

Harry flopped in a kitchen chair after having downed a shot of Firewhiskey, his first ever. He rubbed his throbbing temples and ignored his burning throat as the people around him argued.

"How more irresponsible could you possibly be?" Hermione raved at the twins, who were intent on defending themselves. Ron was set on calming Hermione, while at the same time trying to placate the twins. The result was that all three turned on him and began yelling at once.

"That's enough!" Ginny yelled finally. "What are we doing? We need to stick together now more than ever and all we're doing is arguing amongst ourselves!"

"Ginny's right," Harry said suddenly, looking up from his chair. All eyes revolved to him. "We need a plan," he said simply.

"I vote we squash the rat," Ron said matter-of-factly.

"That's all good and well, Ron, but we have to find him first," Harry said impatiently. He stood up and began to pace nervously. "What we need is a plan on how to flush him out," he told the group.

"How about we break into groups and search each room?" Hermione asked.

"No, no," Harry said, shaking his head. "I've already thought of that. I don't want to risk anyone's safety. Wormtail may be a cowardly traitor, but he's still close to Voldemort and a fully grown wizard. We don't know what else Voldemort has planned for us. For all we know, anything we touch could be a Portkey…" Almost everyone looked around them in fear and suspicion, half afraid to touch anything.

Harry furrowed his brows and looked pointedly at the twins. "Are Portkeys affected by this locking spell of yours?'

The twins immediately huddled together and conversed in hushed whispers. Apparently reaching a conclusion, they both straightened up and shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as ours," Fred replied.

"We never tried Portkeys, for obvious reasons," George replied. "It'd be interesting to find out, though…."

"Yeah… really interesting," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I'd _love_ to be Portkeyed straight to Voldemort for the second time in my life. The first time was _so_ enjoyable!"

"Never thought of it that way…." George said lamely.

"Maybe a Nowhere-To-Be-Found spell?" Ginny suggested, hopefully. "When one of us loses something, Mum does that spell to help locate the lost item."

"No good," Ron said regretfully. "I once lost Scabbers back when I thought he was an ordinary rat and Mum tried that. It didn't work."

"I have an idea," Hermione said suddenly, drawing her wand.

"What?" Harry asked curiously.

"Just stand back and keep your wands trained on me. If this works, you'll see," she told the group.

In a loud voice she bellowed, "_Accio_ Wormtail!"

Everyone's eyes widened as a moment later a frightened looking grey rat came sailing through the air from the direction of the hallway, straight into Hermione's outstretched hand.

As Hermione caught the struggling rat easily in her outstretched hand, Harry couldn't help but marvel at his friend's cleverness. He had not thought to use the Summoning Charm… So simple, yet so brilliant!

Keeping his wand trained on the rat, he stepped closer for a better look. The rat was definitely looking the worse for wear. It had been almost three years since Harry had last seen Pettigrew in his Animagus form and Wormtail had not been looking his best then, either. The stout grey rat's hair was practically threadbare. Dwindling patches could clearly be seen here and there on the short rodent fur, even from a distance. The silvery paw glistened in the light of the Dursley living room as the rat's beady black eyes looked around wildly for possible escape routes.

Before anyone could take the harassed-looking animal from Hermione, however, she let out a squeal of shock and suddenly dropped him. Several things happened at once. No less than four different spells went flying through the air straight for the small creature trying desperately to right himself from his abrupt fall.

In the end, it was Ron's _Petrificus Totalus _that hit its mark. The little animal stiffened straight as a board, looking as if rigor mortis had set in suddenly.

Instead of running to the rat, however, Ron ran straight for the brown-haired girl whose quick thinking had saved the day. Her face was deathly pale, pain flashing in her eyes. She also appeared to be clutching one hand in the other.

"All right there, Hermione?" he asked worriedly.

"He bit me!" she screeched in indignation.

"Let me see," Ron said through clenched teeth, anger radiating off his person.

Hermione uncovered her hand as Ron tenderly took it in his larger one, moving it slightly to expose the bleeding wound on her palm where the rodent's teeth had made contact. Hermione winced with every unexpected movement.

"Doesn't look too deep," he said relieved. "It will need to be cleaned and bandaged, though. Goodness knows what bloody germs _he's_ got!" Ron said, shooting the frozen rat a disgusted glare. Looking towards Harry, he asked, "Do you have anything to put on this? I'm not familiar with Muggle healing, but something has to be done before she gets an infection."

"I think there's a first aid kit in the cupboard over there." Harry said, pointing to a small cupboard beside the sink. "Let me check." He returned a moment later with a small white box. "Hermione probably knows more about this than I do," Harry said as he handed it over. Ron still had not let go of Hermione's injured hand and she was leaning on him heavily, her face screwed up in pain but a certain air of satisfaction surrounded her. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was actually enjoying this.

As the pair moved off into the corner of the room to take care of the wound, George reached down and picked up the frozen rat by the tail, raising him to eye level for a better look. "So what are we to do with _him_?" he asked.

"Not much we _can_ do until your locking spell lifts," Harry said ruefully.

"Yes, but what are we to do in the meantime?" Ginny put in practically. "Ron's curse won't last forever, after all."

"Do you have a cage around here, Harry?" Fred asked.

"No, the Dursleys aren't exactly pet-friendly people," Harry said. "The only cage in the house belongs to Hedwig."

At that statement, the twins looked at each other and raised identical eyebrows.

Catching their meaning, Harry immediately began to back stroke. "Oh no," he said shaking his head and hands violently and backing away. "Hedwig won't _ever_ forgive me if I let you do that."

"Would you rather Pettigrew escape?" George asked rationally.

"Of course not," Harry said. "But… but Hedwig is sensitive," he stammered. "If I let you use her cage, she'd never let me live it down! I'd have to buy out the whole stock of owl treats in Eyelops Owl Emporium just to keep her from biting my hand off every time I want to send a letter," he pleaded.

"Harry," Ginny said quietly from behind him. "You do remember that Hedwig is off hunting right now, don't you?"

"Yeah? So?" he said irritably, swinging around to face her.

She seemed unaffected by his temper. "Maybe she won't notice that anyone has _shared_ her cage while she's been away," she reasoned.

"I doubt that," Harry snorted.

"Do you have a better idea?" she asked pointedly.

"Er… no," he said regretfully.

"How much harm could it do?" she asked.

Against his better judgment he found himself agreeing. The choice would have been harder if Hedwig had been in the house, but she wasn't. Harry didn't have much of an excuse to say no.

After reluctantly retrieving the cage from his room and securing the rat inside, Fred and George did a complicated incantation over the top of it.

"Was that the same spell you used on the house?" Harry asked.

"With a slight variation," Fred said, nodding. "Wouldn't want old Scabbers there to escape, would we? With that spell on the cage, he shouldn't be able to transform once he comes round. The cage is too small and the spell will keep it from breaking apart, should he try. Nature should force him to stay a rat as long as the spell stays in place."

"And he won't be able to Apparate out of there, either," George added.

"But you have no idea how long that spell will last," Harry reminded them.

"That's true," Fred agreed. "But we'll take turns keeping watch. By the time the spell wears off on this place, the members of the Order should be back to take care of our little friend here."

"Fred and I will be responsible for first watch," George volunteered, picking up the cage.

"Where do you think you're disappearing to?" Harry asked in disbelief as the twins started to open the door.

"We need to see how the show is going," Fred said as if it were obvious. "We left Lee and Angelina in charge of entertaining the Muggles."

"Show?" Harry repeated suspiciously. "What show?"

"The magic show, of course," Fred said grandly, as if he was the ringmaster in a travelling circus announcing the next act. He opened the door with a flourish, revealing said show in progress.

Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. At the moment Lee was in front of the spellbound group of Muggles performing card tricks, only instead of using regular slight of hand illusions he was using his wand to make the cards fly around or disappear then reappear as if by "magic". The girls were clapping, clearly intrigued by how he was doing these "tricks" while the boys, save Dudley, were obviously impressed but trying not to show it.

Dudley, Harry could see, was stuck between horrified and utterly terrified. He had to laugh at the strange combination of emotions flitting over his cousin's drunken, piggy face.

George stepped up to Harry and slung an arm amiably across Harry's shoulders. "You did say to entertain them," he reminded him.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind," Harry said faintly.

From behind him he heard Hermione hiss, "This is, by far, the most irresponsible thing! If I had known-"

But her voice was drowned out by the gleeful claps and squeals from the crowd assembled in the living room. Angelina had just transfigured one of Aunt Petunia's crystal vases into a wine glass, complete with wine that she drank in rapid gulps to uproarious applause before she transfigured it back to its normal form.

Fred handed the cage off to Ron and together with George they both joined the spectacle in the living room, earning even greater applause than Angelina had. Both bowed theatrically to the crowd and Harry noticed Dudley blanch white, looking like he wanted to throw up on the spot.

"Missed us, have you?" George said, grinning.

"Always," Andrea replied, her face fairly red from either embarrassment or too much alcohol. They seemed to be openly flirting with each other now.

"Well," Fred said. "You're in luck. We've come with reinforcements." He motioned to the shell-shocked Harry, Ron (still holding tightly to Wormtail's prison), a livid-looking Hermione, and an amused Ginny all clustered around the doorway.

Claire turned to the new group and brightened unnaturally when she caught sight of Harry. She squealed and exclaimed loudly, "Oh, Harry, there you are, you naughty boy! I was wondering where you'd got off to." She rushed up to Harry, shoving the others out of the way and clutching his arm roughly, jerking him forward. "Come show us some tricks, Harry. Is it true you can do magic too?" she slurred excitedly.

"Umm… I suppose," Harry admitted awkwardly aware that every eye was now on him.

"He's not as good as us," Fred said loudly.

"But he'll do," George chimed in. "Come show the audience some magic, Harry! This is your house, after all."

"Not technically," Harry muttered, catching sight of Dudley's murderous face and feeling his head throb painfully. His headache seemed to be getting worse, not better, and he was feeling woozy again. Although this time it could be due to the Firewhiskey he'd just downed, he reckoned.

"Can you do that fabulous trick your friends did earlier?" Claire asked him, still clinging to his arm uncomfortably.

Harry's vision was now swimming but he managed to ask, "What trick?" He felt extremely off-balance and _funny_, but not in a good way.

"The one where you turn someone into a canary." She pointed to Fred and George. "They did that to Dudders earlier and it was _hilarious_!" She laughed hysterically at the thought.

"Umm…" Harry stuttered. "I don't think I know that one." He was feeling hot now and had the urge to shed some clothes. "I don't think…" he began, but swayed dangerously on his feet. Claire tried to catch him but her balance was off too, and so the result was that they both tumbled to the ground, Claire laughing hysterically again.

"It's time to wrap this show up," Hermione announced.

"Awe," the crowd grumbled.

Harry was trying to disengage from Claire but having a terrible time. Ron finally set the cage down and lent him a hand, but Claire remained on the floor. It soon became apparent why – she was passed out cold.

"What're we going to do with her?" Ron asked.

"Leave her there," Ginny said, unconcerned.

Harry swayed again and Hermione steadied him. "Do you have any sleeping draught in your trunk, Harry?" she whispered.

Harry nodded. "A bit, I think. Madame Pomfrey gave it to me after… you know."

"Can I send someone upstairs to get it?" she asked. "We can slip some in their drinks. Only the girls need it, anyway. The others are pretty much kiboshed now, all on their own."

Harry nodded. He hadn't noticed before, but the Muggles were all rather tipsy. "It's wrapped in an old pair of Uncle Vernon's socks," he said. "I think I saw it on the bottom left-hand side of the trunk." Hermione handed him over to Ginny and rushed to take care of it herself.

"Just where are we all going to sleep?" Ron asked.

"Aunt Petunia has a whole cupboard full of blankets upstairs," Harry offered. "We can also raid the pillows and blankets off all the beds," Harry told the group. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's bedroom is locked, but I'm sure Fred and George can take care of that."

"At your service, Mr. Potter," the twins said. They had come back to take the rat from Ron while the Muggles were milling about. Harry remembered another time back in second year when they had picked the lock on his bedroom door and the cupboard under the stairs in order to help him escape from the Dursleys. They rushed out of the room, presumably to do the same thing upstairs to his aunt and uncle's bedroom door.

He was grateful for Ginny's support as she gently guided him over to a nearby chair. "I think I'll go see to those blankets," she told him.

Still feeling out of sorts, he scanned the room for a distraction after she left. Hermione was still unaccounted for, but he spied Ron close by staring intently at the prison that currently held the Animagus form of Peter Pettigrew.

"All right, there Ron?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah," his friend said, shrugging, his voice strained and full of anger. "It's just strange to know your pet rat is really a dirty, rotten, lying murderer."

Harry was quiet, sensing his friend's need to vent.

"I never let it bother me before," Ron explained. "But seeing him again after all this time… it makes me wonder how Sirius refrained from killing him back in the Shrieking Shack that time."

Harry knew exactly what Ron was talking about. "I think that would be my fault," he said regretfully. "Sometimes I think I should have stayed out of it and let Sirius and Remus do what should have been done. He's hurt so many people… and I fear more will be hurt, all because I stopped them from killing the stupid, bloody rat!" he said vehemently.

Harry's head gave another painful throb. Sighing audibly, he confessed, "I was so sure at the time that my dad wouldn't want them to be murderers on his account. Now I just don't know." Thinking of Snape's Pensieve, Harry suddenly didn't know _what_ James would have done if he had been there.

"You did the right thing, Harry," Ron assured him. "It was just rotten luck that things turned out the way they did."

"I don't know if I believe in coincidence anymore, Ron," Harry told him stiffly, a cryptic tone edging into his voice. "Not with prophecies and the like out there."

The last was barely a whisper but Ron must have heard. "Now you sound like Hermione, mate," Ron said, a troubled expression crossing his face. "Ever since the Department of Mysteries she has been bugging me to tell her more about Divination. Like _I_ know!" he scoffed.

The two stood in companionable silence for awhile staring at the rat locked in the cage, each lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly Ron burst out, "I wonder what he's doing here."

"I've been wondering that myself," Harry told him. "I'm afraid I already know the answer, though." Harry's mind drifted to the prophecy and Voldemort's reason for wanting him dead.

Their conversation was interrupted by the return of Hermione, who could be seen heading toward them with a small bottle held tightly in her hand. Harry suppressed a smile. He could always count on Hermione to get the job done.

"Care for some help?" he asked her, trying hard not to wince with pain.

"No," she said. "You don't look so good, Harry. I'll just walk around and slip a drop or two in the drinks and let nature takes its course." She bustled off just as Ginny came back with an armload of blankets.

"Can you and Ron please move some of this furniture back as soon as the Muggles go to sleep?" she asked. "We're going to need the space if we're all to camp out down here."

"Why not use the beds?" Ron asked.

He was rewarded with an arched eyebrow from Ginny. "And just who is to sleep in them, Ron?" she asked innocently.

"Ron's right, Ginny," Harry said, ignoring Ron's red face. Both of them turned to him in surprise. "It's silly, really, to have perfectly good beds available and not use them. I say you girls take the beds and let us boys camp out on the floor."

"That's very chivalrous of you, Harry," Ginny retorted, "but we girls can manage fine on the floor. We're much tougher than you seem to think."

"Speak for yourself, Ginny," Angelina said as she walked past. "I, for one, would rather have the bed."

"Well, _I_ insist on the floor," Ginny retorted stubbornly. "_Some_ people might not think I'm incapable of handling myself, but it's only because they don't know me very well."

Harry winced again. He had thought Ginny had forgotten about the incident in the hallway, but obviously not. "Ginny," Harry implored. "Please don't start."

"Start what, Harry?" she asked innocently, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in a challenge.

"I told you before I was only trying to protect you," he said, cradling his head.

Angelina, who had not left yet, snorted loudly. "Anyone who can handle being the youngest female in a house full of Weasley boys definitely doesn't need protection," she muttered.

"Too right, Angelina," Ginny sniffed indignantly.

"I know you can handle yourself, Ginny," Harry insisted, looking up. "You've proved that. I just don't want to see you do something to get yourself hurt."

"Like _I_ want to see you, or Ron, or Hermione hurt while I sit back on the sidelines in safety?" she asked, yelling as she whirling on him.

Harry was taken aback by her outburst. He had never seen her this angry before, and it was unnerving, especially since it was directed towards him. Not only that, but her voice was like a hammer to his pounding head. He couldn't think straight. "Well… no," he stammered. "I suppose not."

"To you, I'll always be that little girl who needs saving," she ranted, unaware that she was sending him into convulsions with the volume of her voice alone. "The Great Harry Potter coming to rescue the damsel," she went on bitterly. "I thought you understood, but I was _wrong_. Well, Harry, I may not be as good as you at Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I'm here to inform you that I _can_ take care of myself!"

He was angry now. Ginny's words were cutting through the pain like a knife through his heart. "Sure you can…" he said sarcastically, "just like you did with the diary." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. Ron sucked in his breath and Angelina visibly winced, taking a step back – mostly from the look of pure rage radiating off the young red-head.

"Harry," she said quietly, "I always thought you were a lot of things, but mean was never a word I ever associated with you until this instant."

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean that like it sounded," he said in frustration, feeling like he wanted to throw up on the spot.

"Then explain it to me, Harry, because I'd really like to know." Her voice was icy cold – as cold as her eyes.

"I just want to protect you, okay!" he yelled back, doubling over in pain. He was forced to whisper his next statement. If the room hadn't gone suddenly quiet no one would have even heard him. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Ginny." Here he faltered, his voice suddenly becoming low and raspy. "Like it did before, and like it did to Sirius and… Cedric."

Harry watched all the anger she held inside evaporate like mist. Her hardened features, so rigid with anger only moments before, softened like butter melting in the hot July heat. He knew in an instant that he had been forgiven, and a great weight lifted from his chest. Slowly, he let out a sigh of relief, as if he had been holding his breath for a very long time.

"Well," Ginny said. It was a statement, born of someone who had just heard something unexpected and now didn't know what to say. There was a pregnant pause as dead silence hung in the air. Everyone present in the room was waiting to see what would happen next.

As if struggling with herself, Ginny said stubbornly, "I'm still sleeping on the floor."

"If you are, then I guess I am too… as long as you can forgive me for being a stupid, thoughtless, self-centred prat," Harry said through gritted teeth. He was shaking now with pain, but extremely relieved that it was over. Mentally, he reminded himself to choose his words more carefully in the future - both in and out of moments of crisis.

"I'll sleep on the floor, too," Hermione volunteered, looking at Harry worriedly.

Harry looked around. All of the Muggles were fast asleep.

"That settles it," Ron put in, too. "All four of us are on the floor."

"Suit yourselves," Angelina said, shrugging. "That's just more bed for me." Katie, Alicia, Lee, Fred and George all nodded their agreement. Harry hadn't even noticed them there during his fight with Ginny, and now he felt embarrassed to have caused such a scene.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Katie asked quietly. Everyone was staring at him strangely. "You're as white as a ghost, and you're breaking out in a sweat."

"I'm fine," Harry said, thinking he might retch any minute.

"Let's get the Muggles settled upstairs," Fred suggested. "Then we'll all get a good night's sleep. "George and I will watch the rat first, then Ron and Hermione."

"I'll take third shift," Lee volunteered.

"Me, too," Alicia said.

"That leaves the last one to Katie and me," Angelina said.

"What about Harry and me?" Ginny asked, still sounding peeved.

"You watch over Harry, little sister," George told her seriously. "In case you hadn't noticed, he's not looking so good."

Harry didn't have the energy to protest. He watched as the others quietly made themselves ready for bed and didn't fight them when they insisted he lie down immediately. Something was wrong with him... very wrong, but he didn't know what. He didn't want to think about it now. He was just grateful Ginny had decided to forgive him, and especially glad she had stopped yelling.

**A/N: **Thanks you Arnel for all your help on this and other projects. Also, in case anyone was wondering… here's the definition of kiboshed and where I found it.

Kiboshed: To end, to terminate, to finish off. E.g." We were **kiboshed** as soon as we set off." British Slang Dictionary.


	17. Dreams, Nightmares, and Visions

**Disclaimer:**   
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter Seventeen**

**"Dreams, Nightmares, and Visions"**

As he lay on the floor, his head ready to split open, Harry was thankful that he didn't have guard duty. It had been a very eventful day, and he couldn't guarantee that he could stay awake under the circumstances. He was dead tired and hurting terribly, despite his comfortable conditions. Hermione had performed a Cushioning charm on the ground where the four of them would sleep and, in Harry's opinion, the charm was more comfortable than his old mattress upstairs. He actually felt sorry for Lee, who had got stuck with his cramped bed and its lumpy foundation.

As soon as Ginny calmed down and saw what terrible condition he was in, she had forgotten her anger and taken charge of Harry. She had fussed over him profusely and he had let her, glad that he was forgiven at last.

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had made beds next to him on the floor and somehow the girls had ended up in the middle, flanked on each side by the boys. Despite being in constant pain from his incessant headache, Harry was amused to learn that Ginny preferred to sleep on her stomach, cradling her pillow in her arms. Her head automatically faced the young man on her right, who was lying on his side with his arm tucked underneath the pillow, watching her.

"What?" she asked sleepily, slightly embarrassed to be the focus of his attention.

"I wonder if this is what it's supposed to be like," he whispered softly. He could hear Hermione and Ron talking quietly to each other on the other side of Ginny, but he couldn't hear what they were saying.

In response to her questioning look, Harry explained himself. "You already know that I never had friends when I was younger," he told her. "Of course, Dudders would sleep over at his friends' houses or have them stay here, but I wasn't allowed around. Usually I stayed locked up in the cupboard – either by choice, or because I was made to stay out of sight. I always wondered what it would be like to have friends over..." His voice trailed off as he reflected on everything he had missed. "Stupid, really," he said after a slight pause, flushing red.

"It's not stupid," Ginny said quietly. "If it makes you feel any better, I never had friends over either. My family is so isolated where we live, and Mum taught us at home until we went to Hogwarts. There weren't many girls my age nearby except for Luna. She'd come by during the day, but never spent the night. Mostly, though, it was just Ron and me until he went off to school."

"At least you had each other," Harry said, unsuccessfully trying not to let the jealousy creep in.

"You try playing dolls with your Quidditch-obsessed brother sometime," she scoffed. "He would pull their heads off and toss them around, as if they were Bludgers and he was a Beater. I had the hardest time keeping their heads on after that."

Harry chuckled quietly at the mental image he got from this new information, and flipped over on his back to stare up at the ceiling, a bit distracted from his headache for the moment. He could just picture the two of them as children, living the life he had always wanted, with a mother, father, and siblings to tease and torment. Part of him was very amused, but another part was sad that he'd never had that. His memories revolved around trying not to get_ his_ head knocked off on a daily basis by either Dudley, his uncle, or any number of others.

Not noticing his sudden melancholia, she exclaimed, "It's not funny, you know! You try having tea with a bunch of dolls whose heads keep toppling off all the time!"

"Don't believe a word she says, Harry," Ron said suddenly popping up from the other side of Hermione. "She was right there with me, pulling off their heads and using them to scare Mum half to death or to play pranks on the twins."

"You mean_ try_ to play pranks on us!" a voice yelled from the kitchen.

"Yeah," Ron mumbled. "That's what I meant."

"Go to sleep, Ron," Hermione said tiredly. "We have to get up in a few hours, remember?" No one said much of anything after that.

Harry lay there for a long time, listening to his friends' increasingly even breathing and thinking about what they had said. He'd trade all his gold in Gringotts, just to be able to turn back the clock and grow up in a normal magical family, with people who cared about him.

Turning back over on his side, he looked at the sleeping red-head and smiled. If he couldn't have that for himself, he was glad that Ginny did. Reaching over, he laid his hand over hers and slowly drifted off to sleep thinking about what it must have been like to grow up as a Weasley.

_Startled, he looked around. He wasn't frightened, for he knew exactly where he was. No, what startled him was the suddenness in how he had come to be here. One minute he was sleeping on the floor at Privet Drive, and the next he was standing in the warm and inviting kitchen at the Burrow. Walking around, he __marvelled__ again at how different this place was from the Dursleys'. It felt like home, and with a pang he realised, suddenly, how much he had missed it._

_Out of nowhere two identical blurs burst into the kitchen running at top speed, chased by a young-looking Molly Weasley._

_Stopping to catch her breath, she shouted, "Fred and George Weasley! Come back here this instant with my wand! If I don't get it back before I count to three, you'll be __degnoming__ the garden for a month - with no help from your brothers or sister!" she shrieked between breaths._

_When there was no answer from the twins she began counting very loudly. "One... two... __thr__-"_

_"Here it is, Mum," a timid voice said from under the table as a small hand reached up to give her mother's wand back. "Fred and George didn't take it... I did."_

_"Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley said, stooping down to look at the small girl crouching out of sight._

_Harry looked at the scene playing out before him in confusion. It felt as if he was in a Pensieve watching someone else's memory, yet he knew that wasn't the case. Not feeling threatened in the least, he continued to watch in curiosity, wondering why he was seeing this, yet not really caring about the answer._

_"I wanted to get them in trouble," she sniffled, a fat tear sliding down her face. "B-but then you got so mad, I didn't think it was funny anymore. Are you angry with me, Mum?"_

_"That depends," her mother said kindly but sternly. "Why did you feel the need to get your brothers into trouble? This doesn't sound like the little girl I know." She crossed her arms waiting for an answer, and Harry watched little Ginny flinch under her mother's scrutiny._

_"I'd rather not say," Ginny's tiny voice answered evasively._

_"Were your brothers teasing you again?" she asked her daughter gently._

_"Y-yes," Ginny stuttered, sniffling and looking down at her feet as she shuffled nervously. "But it's ok... they're just being boys. I'm not upset anymore," she said bravely._

_"I know being the youngest isn't easy," Molly sighed sympathetically. "Goodness knows I put up with as much when I was your age. My brothers used to tease me relentlessly! But that still does not excuse taking my wand and almost letting your brothers take the blame."_

_Seeing her daughter's look of fear and horror at the imagined consequences, Mrs. Weasley appeared to be caving in. "Oh, all right," she said good-naturedly, rubbing a tear away from Ginny's cheek. "I suppose I can let it pass this once. But no more, young lady, or I'll have you in this kitchen helping me prepare dinner and cleaning up afterwards without magic!" she warned, shaking her finger but tweaking the little girl gently on the nose._

_"I promise, Mum," Ginny said smiling sweetly._

_"Now, off you go! Find Ronald, and tell him it's time to clean out that cupboard in the upstairs hallway. I swear you children get messier every day! Just this morning I found a nest of __Puffskeins__ living in there - probably something the two of you dragged in from the garden, no doubt," she said a smile twisting on her face. Harry did not believe for a minute she was really angry._

_Harry watched as the little girl skipped out of the kitchen to perform her task. Unsure of what to do, he jumped when a familiar voice spoke next to his ear. "Care to follow, Harry?" Turning, he was astounded to see 15-year-old Ginny holding out a hand calmly, and motioning him to accompany her outside into the warm summer morning. Without saying a word, he took her hand and let her pull him along in pursuit of her younger self._

_Finding his voice he whispered, "Umm... __Ginny?__ What are we doing here?" he asked._

_She stopped and looked at him funny. "Dreaming, of course," she answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world._

_"I don't understand," he stated warily. How could he be dreaming? It all looked and felt so real. He could even feel her hand in his and smell the morning dew wafting in from the fields._

_"Well, not dreaming, exactly. Its more like __dreamwalking__," she explained. "Haven't you ever done this before?" she asked surprised._

_Harry shook his head. He had dreamed through Voldemort's eyes, but somehow this felt different. Safer, somehow - like he was an observer of past events rather than in the present._

_"Some people have the ability to step into another person's dreams," she explained. "Right now you're in my dream, I suppose. I've only done this once or twice myself."_

_She looked thoughtful. "Once I fell asleep on Bill's lap when I was a little __girl__ and I __dreamwalked__ into Gryffindor Tower. Another time, I woke up from a thunderstorm and ran into Ron's room. It was just before he went off to Hogwarts. Anyway, we fell asleep talking, and I __dreamwalked__ into his dream about playing on the __Chudley__ Cannons as they won the World Cup._

"_That's when I really got the Quidditch bug!" she said excitedly. "I had always loved flying, but never really thought much about Quidditch. Ron's dream was so exciting that I started following the game, practising on my own after Ron left and he wrote and told us you-" she stopped abruptly, her eyes wide. "Never mind," she said shortly._

_"What about me?" he pressed curiously._

_She sighed dramatically. "I might as well tell you. It's not as if it's a big secret or anything." Licking her lips nervously, she mumbled, "I started practising seriously after Ron wrote home and told us you'd been picked for the house team. I thought it'd help me to get to know you," she said sheepishly. __"Pathetic, huh?"_

_"Not at all," he smiled gently. "I'm __honoured__ that I unwittingly encouraged you to do something you obviously love."_

_"Thank you," she sighed gratefully. "I thought you'd get all weird or embarrassed about that," she admitted. "I'm ashamed when I think about how I acted towards you - refusing to talk, and running out of the room when you were around, and all."_

_"That's ok, Ginny. I understand," Harry told her, averting his eyes. He remembered feeling the same around Cho - how hard it had been to hold a conversation, or even talk in complete sentences when she was around. Of course, he didn't think Ginny would appreciate his analogy, so he kept it to himself. "I didn't exactly make it easy on you."_

_"What are you talking about, Harry? You were a perfect gentleman about it. You could have teased me mercilessly or made fun of me, but instead you just kept your distance. I respected you all the more for how you handled it, actually," she said, flashing him a warm smile._

_"Anyway, maybe we'd better see what's happening up ahead. I think you'll be interested in it," she said mysteriously. Harry nodded his agreement, and they walked on hand in hand._

_Upon reaching the field where they usually played their Quidditch games, Harry saw a young Ron being approached by a young Ginny. Ron was batting apples with a stick. With each successful hit, the apple would splat apart violently, which seemed to please the young boy greatly._

_"Oi!__ Ron!" Ginny yelled. "Mum wants you! She says it's time to clean out the cupboard. She found our __Puffskein__," she said ruefully. Brightening, she added, "It had babies!"_

_"Wicked!"__ Ron answered, but continued to throw the apples in the air and bat at them, making no move to follow Ginny back to the Burrow. "How many?" he asked._

_"Dunno," she answered. It looked as if she was going to say more, but just then two identical blurs came streaking out from nowhere._

_"Gin-Gin you were brilliant!" one of them exclaimed. Ron stopped whacking apples and suddenly looked interested._

_"The way you cried... so realistic," the other twin said. "It makes a brother proud. Thanks for covering for us, by the way."_

_Ginny narrowed her eyes and surveyed the twin carefully. "What did you want with Mum's wand, anyway?"_

_"Never you mind, little one," the one on the left said. "The less you __know__ the better."_

_Just then Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard from a distance. "Ron! Ginny! What's taking you so long? Have you seen your brothers out there?"_

_The twins looked at each other, and as one bolted away, yelling over their shoulders as they went. "Don't tell her you saw us! She's still on about that little prank we pulled this morning at the breakfast table! It's better for everyone if we stay out of sight for a while!"_

_Ginny and Ron watched them go, both shaking their young heads in amusement. Ron turned to Ginny. "Do you think they'll ever learn?" he asked._

_"Nope," Ginny said seriously, then laughed._

_"What were they on about? That thing with Mum's wand?" he asked curiously as they made their way back to the Burrow._

_Harry listened as the younger Ginny laughingly told her brother all about the events in the __kitchen__ and how Fred and George had dropped their mother's wand as they ran past. Ginny had been playing under the table and picked it up, pretending to have taken it herself in order to cover for her brothers. Harry couldn't believe that someone so young could be so calculating. "You should have been a __Slytherin__," he whispered to the older Ginny who looked slightly affronted._

_"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in __Slytherin__, but I asked for Gryffindor because I couldn't stand the thought of being separated from my brothers - and __Slytherin__ gives me the creeps," she said with a worried frown. "Do you really think I belong in __Slytherin__?"_

_"No," Harry said quickly. "I was only joking." He paused, considering his next words. Finally he asked, "The hat thought you would make a good __Slytherin__?" he asked, surprised._

_She nodded and averted her eyes, wondering why she had told him that bit of information and what he must think of her now._

_"Hmm," Harry mused. __"Me too, Ginny.__ I suppose that's one more thing we have in common."_

_Ginny stopped cold, her eyes wide. "You're just telling me that to make me feel better," she stated, but Harry could see the hopeful look in her eyes._

_"I'm dead serious, I swear," Harry assured her as he continued to walk. Harry was glad to see Ginny hurry to catch up, looking at him expectantly for an explanation._

_"I thought for a while, back in second year, that it had made a mistake putting me in Gryffindor. Everyone believed I was the heir of __Slytherin__, remember? I thought I truly belonged there, because I had pleaded with it to not put me in __Slytherin__ during my Sorting. I thought maybe that's where I really belonged, but I was wrong. Dumbledore says it's your choices that determine who you are, and I think I agree with him," he told her._

_Looking puzzled, he turned towards her. "Why are you dreaming about this incident, anyway?" Harry asked suddenly. He was curious as to why Ginny had dreamed about this particular event - it seemed so mundane and normal._

_Ginny shrugged. "Before we went to sleep, we were talking about our childhoods. This type of scene was typical when I was growing up. __Fred and George getting in trouble, Mum yelling, me covering for them.__ How do you think I got so much dirt on them?" she grinned._

_Suddenly everything shifted, and Harry and Ginny found themselves in an entirely new place. Looking around, Harry realised that he was in his old headmaster's office in his primary school._

_Ginny gasped. "Where are we now, Harry? This doesn't look familiar," she asked._

_"It's my old school," he began, only to be interrupted by the door slamming open. Harry watched with wide eyes as a black-haired, balding man threw his younger self into the room._

_"Have a seat, Potter!" the man bellowed. "Your aunt and uncle are on their way. I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation, as would I," he sneered. The older Harry had never before realised how much his old headmaster had looked like Snape._

_"I swear, sir, I didn't do it," young Harry tried to explain, his jaw set stubbornly._

_"Then explain to me how you happened to be the only one around when Mrs. Fields' hair suddenly turned blue!" the man yelled, knocking young Harry back into the chair in front of the large desk. The older Harry heard Ginny trying to suppress a giggle, probably at the thought of him turning his teacher's hair blue by accident._

_"I don't know how it happened, sir," young Harry explained. "We were discussing my latest English composition mark. She didn't agree with my choice of topics, you see. We were exchanging words and next thing I knew her hair just turned... blue." His voice trailed off lamely and he seemed to have a defeated look on his young face. "I wasn't even standing near her when it happened."_

_"Yes... about that assignment," the Headmaster said, clearing his throat. "I have the paper right here." He crossed over to his desk and put on a pair of reading glasses to look over the offending composition. "Apparently, you were assigned a topic, and you chose to deviate from the one you were given," he said reproachfully._

_"Only a little," young Harry admitted guiltily._

_"You were supposed to describe your family traditions," the headmaster went on disapprovingly, as if Harry hadn't said anything. Harry nodded his head, even though the man was not looking at him. "Instead, you chose to fabricate lies about your family... lies that put them in a very negative light."_

_The younger Harry jumped up and shouted, "I didn't lie!"_

_"Come now, Mr. Potter! According to this, you would have me believe that Mr. and Mrs. Dursley lock you in a cupboard, starve you, make you wait on them hand and foot, and never allow you to participate in family holidays! Having known the Dursleys for a number of years, and being quite familiar with their son, Dudley, I have a difficult time believing you," he told the young boy condescendingly. "They are simply a __marvellous__family that,__ unfortunately, has a nephew who is a known troublemaker with a propensity for telling lies!" the man huffed._

_Young Harry tried to protest, but was cut off with a hand signal and a __tut-tutting__ noise from the man. "Manners, Mr. Potter," he was told, which effectively silenced the boy. The man continued, "You go on in your essay, Mr. Potter, to fill up three pages of your ideal family. As Mrs. Fields explained to you, this was not your assignment!" the headmaster said in a booming voice._

_At that precise moment there was a short rap on the door, and the images of Vernon and Petunia Dursley could be seen outside the office through the glass panes of the door. Both __Harrys__ winced with expectation of the entrance of his relatives, and Ginny squeezed the elder Harry's hand tightly in reassurance._

_At the word "Enter!" bellowed by the headmaster, the door was flung open and the huge, beefy body of Vernon Dursley filled the doorway. Young Harry sat back down on the chair in submission and hung his head, his taped glasses sliding low on the bridge of his nose. Ginny could clearly see the lightening bolt scar peeping out from under his fringe, even from her distance across the room. The boy's clothes were obviously too big, and he had an unkempt, neglected look about him that was easy to spot if you were looking properly. Despite this, he looked up at his aunt and uncle with a resolve that could only be described as pure dislike and defiance._

_"Boy! What is the meaning of this? What have you done now?" his uncle roared._

_Harry and Ginny didn't have time to hear the explanation. Before they knew it, their surroundings were again completely different. Harry could feel Ginny shaking with fear as a small, "NO!" escaped her lips._

_"What is this place, Ginny?" Harry asked in confusion. It looked vaguely familiar to him, but it was so dim that he had a difficult time making out the features of the room. As far as he could tell, it seemed to be a large cavern of some sort - rather dank and dingy, with a stone floor. The air felt close, as if it were trying to suffocate him. A feeling of fear gripped him suddenly as a torch blazed to life, and he realised with trepidation that he was back in the Chamber of Secrets._

_Eleven-year-old Ginny was crouched on her knees, clutching the small black diary to her chest, looking pale and drawn as if her very life were being sucked out of her. She was crying._

_"I-I'll do whatever you say, T-tom... j-just don't hurt anyone. P-please... Tom..." she sobbed. The older Ginny clung to Harry for support, turning her back on her younger self and __focussing__ her eyes on his shoulder. _

_Harry tensed as something stepped out of the darker shadows. It was the form of sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, although he was barely visible and translucent. The boy mocked the young girl cowering at his feet._

_"Such a weak thing you are, Ginny Weasley. __So pathetic.__ Don't you realise it's too late to make deals with me, child? Had you only been cleverer, you might have postponed this just a little longer," he sighed evilly. "But now your hour has come. Today, I will have my revenge on Harry Potter and Hogwarts!"_

_"Harry w-won't come," she protested weakly. "H-he doesn't e-even know I exist!"_

_"He'll come, little one," Tom laughed. "He'll come - his Gryffindor nobility won't allow him to leave you here when he thinks he can save you. By the end of the day you'll both be dead, and then I'll celebrate my victory by unleashing my monster on the rest of Hogwarts - all thanks to you, dear Ginny," Tom sneered._

_"What have I done?" she wailed into her hands. "What have I done?"_

_Tom bent down and cupped Ginny's chin with his hand, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Looking deep in her frightened face, he said coldly, "It's time to go now, my dear. It's a shame you won't be conscious enough to greet your love when he comes for you."_

_Harry watched in horror as the ghostly Tom Riddle kissed the crying girl full on the lips. For a second, she looked surprised and tried to fight him off. Then her face began to lose colour and she became even paler. Her eyes slid closed and she appeared to give in to the boy, who was becoming even more solid._

_A noise could be heard from behind. Tom abruptly broke off the kiss and retreated back into the shadows, leaving the cold, lifeless body of Ginny Weasley crumpled on the stone floor, clutching the small black book._

_Suddenly the scene changed again. This time they were in a dark, overgrown graveyard with headstones dotted here and there. A small church stood beside a large yew tree. Off in the distance, an old house was barely visible on the hillside._

_Ginny was still clinging to him, but looked up in surprise at her new surroundings. "Where is this?" she asked him through her tears._

_He gripped her shoulder tightly, his mouth thin and set. "Just watch," he croaked. "You'll see."_

_Two figures appeared, stumbling out of thin air, a golden goblet clutched between them. The shorter one fell forward, letting go of the cup. Raising his head he asked, "Where are we?"_

_Helping the younger Harry up off the ground, Cedric Diggory looked around and then down at the __Triwizard__ Cup. "Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked._

_"Nope," he said. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"_

_Dream-Harry tensed with dread and anticipation; he knew what was coming, but was helpless to stop it._

_"I __dunno__," Cedric said nervously. "Wands out, __d'you__ reckon?"_

_"Yeah," Harry answered, pulling his wand and looking around him wildly. "Someone's coming," he heard himself say, like some sick recording._

_"Don't lower your wand... don't lower your wand..." he muttered over and over again while Ginny watched the scene in shocked horror._

_The younger Harry lowered his wand and looked at the approaching figure curiously. Harry cursed under his breath. Pettigrew stopped about six feet from the two boys, carrying the bundle of robes._

_The scene played out with sickening accuracy until they spun into yet another nightmare…_

_Immediately, they were in the Department of Mysteries. Ginny recognised the stone arch where they had lingered, on their search for Sirius and the room that held __the prophecies_

_A fight was going on around them. Ginny recognised Death Eaters and Order members duelling along with Harry and Neville. A woman was laughing as she sent a red jet of light from her wand, catching a stunned Sirius square in the chest. Ginny watched him fly backwards into the veil in horror, wanting to stop it but not knowing how._

_"NOOOO!" both __Harrys__ yelled in anguish. __"__Siirrriiiiussss__!"_

_In that instant, Ginny felt Harry's pain as if it were her own. It ripped her soul open, flooding her with feelings that did not belong to her. She closed her eyes, wanting to fight it, wanting to rid herself of it, but at the same time she knew that this was Harry – it was part of him… the pain that made him who he was and defined him as a person. So instead of fighting it, she opened her arms wide and accepted it, making his pain part of her soul. And the dream shifted yet again…_

_They were in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. She was hiding behind the fountain as Bellatrix shot spell after spell at her, with an occasional retaliation from behind the fountain. They were yelling at each other – something about the prophecy that had been smashed._

_Suddenly the most hideous thing Ginny had ever seen appeared right in front of her. She dropped her wand – Harry's wand – and surrendered, as Voldemort's cold red eyes gleamed with satisfaction. _

_Voldemort pointed his wand at her and shouted "__Avad__-"_

He was standing in a dimly-lit room, alone. Somewhere in the back recesses of his mind was the feeling of being watched. The details were elusive, so subtle that it almost escaped detection, but he opened himself up to the feeling.

Potter was here, finally, but so was someone else… A female, close by… standing off in the wings and watching. But how?

He paced inside the room, trying to get his anger under control. It would not do to lose control now when he was so close to getting what he wanted. Wormtail was late. He should have been back long ago with his report, although he was comforted to know that at least the imbecile had been successful.

Suddenly, a knock echoed though the room, and he reached out with his magic to see who dared to disturb him at this late hour. Smiling a cold, twisted, cruel smile, he commanded the perpetrator to enter.

What greeted him on the other side of the door greatly amused him. Peter Pettigrew stumbled in, throwing himself face down in front of his feet, panting heavily. He could smell the fear rolling off the balding man, and it excited him.

"Tell me, Wormtail," he asked coldly, "how long have you left me waiting?"

"I beg your f-forgiveness, Master," Pettigrew wheezed. "I-I was unavoidably d-delayed."

"Do tell?" he sneered, like a cat playing with a mouse before gobbling him up whole. "And what could possibly keep you from your beloved Master's presence? I hope, for your sake, that you have something worthwhile to report, Wormtail, to atone for your insolence and incompetence."

"Y-yes M-master," Wormtail stuttered. "I-I do."

"Well?"

"H-Harry Potter has a girlfriend, My Lord," the crouching man said fearfully.

"Yes," he said, his red eyes narrowing in serious contemplation. "I know all about that... But who is she?"

Many miles away, a young couple awoke screaming, their friends and relatives gathered around them in concern and horror.

**A/N:** Thanks once again to my speedy beta, Arnel. This project is almost complete. Two more chapters to go! The graveyard scene in this chapter was taken directly from Goblet of Fire, and the Atrium scene was based on the same scene in Order of the Phoenix. Thank you JK Rowling for letting me play around with your brilliant work.


	18. Observations, Revelations, and the Escap...

Disclaimer:  
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter Eighteen**

"**Observations, Revelations, and the Escape of Wormtail"**

Hermione was woken from a rather pleasant dream (involving Ron, the Hogwarts library, and chocolate ice cream) by Ginny thrashing around wildly at her side. Having slept in the same room with Ginny on countless occasions, she was not especially bothered by this turn of events. Ginny often did this at night, and Hermione knew why. Although they had not discussed it at length, Hermione was well aware that Ginny was still dealing with effects from the Chamber of Secrets.

At first Hermione just mumbled for Ginny to quiet down and go back to sleep, but when _both_ Ginny and Harry began calling out and thrashing around, she groaned in frustration.

In retrospect, she was ashamed to admit that she was rather put out with the two of them for disturbing her sleep. It wasn't as if she didn't sympathise with them. Hermione was well aware that Harry suffered from nightmares as well as Ginny – and with good reason. Although she was not privy to Harry's sleeping habits, she had heard enough from Ron to know that Harry often had trouble sleeping. She supposed if she had Voldemort running rampant in _her_ mind, and had witnessed even half of what Harry had in his life, she'd have nightmares as well.

Besides, even if Ron had not kept her informed of his best mate's sleep patterns – _and_ if she had not known about Harry's past – Dudley had said enough to convince her that Harry's nightmares were serious. Harry's reaction earlier to Dudley's taunts had sealed it for Hermione. Sometimes she was shocked that Harry hadn't yet managed to land himself in the St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward, with a bad case of post-traumatic stress disorder.

Listening to her friends' pain made her sigh in shame. So what if her sleep was being disturbed? At least her sleep was relatively free from nightmares. Yes, she had the occasional bad dream, usually revolving around Voldemort targeting those she loved – her parents, Harry, the Weasleys, or her friends from school. Sometimes she dreamed that Voldemort had won and that Harry and Ron were dead, leaving her alone in a nightmarish world where Muggleborns were tortured and killed, much like the Jews or early Christians in history. Some nights she dreamed of nameless, faceless Death Eaters closing in on her like they had in June.

These dreams had only worsened since the incident at the Department of Mysteries. It was small consolation that she had yet to come face to face with Voldemort himself and so, thankfully, _he_ had not invaded her dreams yet.

Despite these occasional sleepless nights, however, Hermione was pleased to say that the majority of her nights were peaceful. Tonight's annoyance probably had more to do with being interrupted from an extremely _good_ dream – the thought of which made her blush profusely, even in the dark.

To her right, Ginny and Harry were both becoming more and more agitated. Their thrashing was becoming almost violent, and Hermione was even more disgusted with herself when she heard them both moan painfully and call out in their sleep. Curiously, it seemed as if they were having similar dreams to each other, judging from the snatches she could comprehend.

Wondering what to do, she gently shook Ron awake. She was slightly amused to see that he had not stirred even once through all the noise and was blissfully ignorant of the goings-on around him in the living room. She supposed he was either a heavy sleeper or he was wrapped up in his own dreams. He did seem to be smiling, she mused, as she took in his tousled appearance and relaxed features. A rush of warmth and affection washed over her at the thought that he might be dreaming of her.

"Ron!" she whispered urgently, as Ginny gave another small whimper and Harry yelled out a desperate call. "Wake up!" she said, shaking him gently. Looking at the clock, she realised it was past one. They had been asleep for roughly an hour.

"Go 'way Mum," Ron mumbled. "'Mione and I are busy!" he said, batting her hand away.

Hermione smiled devilishly. Inching up closer to Ron's ear she whispered, "And what exactly are we doing that's keeping us so busy, Ronald?"

She laughed when his eyes flew open, and he looked at her in horror. Immediately, he began to stutter. Quickly, however, she shushed him with a hand to his mouth, as Harry and Ginny let out another small cry of terror and thrashed around heavily on the floor. His eyes widened even further, and he shot a glance in the direction of his sister and best friend.

"What's wrong?" he asked, worriedly.

"Nightmares, I think," she replied, looking thoughtfully at the couple clasped together on the floor. Their faces were contorted in terror, eyes squeezed tight against some unknown enemy or memory. Both were sweating profusely. Harry, especially, looked both dangerous and vulnerable, an odd combination on a face so young. Ginny had buried her head in the crook of his arm, and was holding on to him tightly. They seemed to be aware of each other, but neither was conscious. It was all very odd, in Hermione's opinion.

"Something strange is going on here, Ron," Hermione stated knowingly.

Just as the words escaped her mouth, the whole house shook violently. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn they were experiencing an earthquake. The walls rattled, and every knickknack, window, mirror, and picture in the living room either fell to the floor or shattered. Hermione and Ron landed in a heap together on the floor, and Fred and George's swearing could be heard from the vicinity of the kitchen. Dudley's squeak of fear came from the sofa where he had passed out as an empty frame fell over his head, its glass lying in pieces around him. Hermione could feel the magical energy of the quake radiating off of the couple next to them, and knew without a doubt that one or both were the cause.

The shaking ended as suddenly as it had begun, leaving behind an unnatural silence. Looking over at Harry and Ginny, Hermione noted that they were deathly still and pale. Almost fearfully, she crawled over to her friends and checked their breathing and pulse. Satisfied, she turned back to the shocked red-head and nodded curtly, letting the relief show on her face. Ron let out his own sigh of relief.

"Bloody hell!" Fred exclaimed as he and George entered the room. "What was that?"

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, staring at Harry and Ginny, who had not moved since the house began shaking. "Something funny's going on with those two, though," he said, motioning towards the couple lying motionless, locked in each other's arms.

"Are... are you sure they're all right?" George asked hesitantly. "They look…" He stopped himself before he said the word _dead_. That would be too unbearable.

"They're breathing, if that's what you're asking," Hermione replied. "They were dreaming earlier. Strange dreams… like they were having the same one. It's almost as if they were…"

"Dreamwalking," Ron finished knowingly.

Looking up at him sharply, Hermione suddenly put it all together. "Yes, that's it exactly. I've read about dreamwalking. It's supposedly not a very common gift, but it happens more than, say, Parseltongue. How did you know?" she asked Ron.

"Ginny's done it before," he said. Before he could explain further something else drew their attention.

Sudden loud noises, swearing, and footsteps began to come from everywhere at once. All over the house and in the entranceway, the house seemed to come alive with commotion. The most prominent noise was the blast from the front door, which burst open from a spell that had the teenagers drawing their wands and pointing them fearfully in the direction of the doorway. All present were relieved when Tonks, Mundungus, Lupin, Mad-Eye, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Figg, and finally Dumbledore strode purposefully through the door.

Dumbledore in particular seemed to radiate power, immediately commanding everyone's attention. His piercing blue eyes surveyed the room, not missing the prone forms of Harry and Ginny, who were still locked in an embrace but were deathly pale and still. Only the occasional rapid eye movement betrayed the fact that they were sleeping and not dead. Following the members of the Order into the room were Lee, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie - all sleepy-eyed and wearing confused, frightened expressions on their faces. Hermione heard them murmuring to each other, and watched Fred and George stride over to them and begin to whisper furtively.

Dumbledore spoke aloud the words on everyone's minds. "Miss Granger," he stated in his most authoritative voice, "I think explanations are in order."

Before Hermione had time to utter a word, however, Harry and Ginny woke up screaming, causing everyone in the room to jump in shock and surprise.

It was some time later before the explanations asked for by Dumbledore could be given. Ginny in particular was the hardest to calm down. Clutching her hand to her forehead, in the exact same spot where Harry's scar was, she appeared to be on the verge of hysteria. Eventually, she had to be given a calming potion by Dumbledore, who came ready for just this scenario.

For the millionth time since her first year at Hogwarts, Hermione marvelled at the Headmaster's sense of preparedness, and his calm demeanour in the face of crisis. Who else would think to carry a calming potion around but Dumbledore? Although, she supposed, as head of the Wizengamot and in light of present-day circumstances, it was probably a prudent thing to do.

Only Harry seemed as calm as Dumbledore. Hermione could see his stony face, empty of all emotion. He had his hand pressed against his scar, much like Ginny; he sat quietly in a corner of the room wrapped in a blanket, his eyes shut as if to block out the rest of the world. Whenever someone attempted to address him personally, he acted as if he didn't hear, and refused to look up or answer.

Hermione, having known Harry for such a long time, was very concerned for her friend. This behaviour was very out of character for him. Observing him from a distance, she noted that he didn't appear to be particularly afraid, upset, or ill. Instead, he looked as if he were thinking very hard. For some unexplainable reason, this caused her to feel extremely uneasy.

Dumbledore did not miss Harry's odd behaviour either. After seeing to Ginny and leaving her in the care of her father, he walked over to Harry and attempted to engage him in conversation. Although she could not hear the words exchanged, Hermione did not miss what happened next.

Harry – her dear, kind, noble, gentle friend – looked Dumbledore directly in the eye with a look that could only be described as pure hate. His face contorted into an ugly mask of rage, and the fire in his green eyes reminded Hermione of a snake that was about to strike. The green orbs seemed to glow red in the pale light of the half-moon shining in through the windows.

Hermione saw Harry's fists clench, in an effort to keep himself from attacking the Headmaster. In a move that could only be described as swift, Harry jumped up, pointed his wand at the Headmaster, squared his shoulders defiantly, and faced Dumbledore eye to eye. For the first time in her life, Hermione saw a semblance of fear in the old man's eyes. The room became deathly silent as all eyes swung to the two locked in a battle of wills.

Dumbledore was the first to speak. "You don't want to do this, Harry," he said calmly, looking him directly in the eye. He did not draw his wand, or make a move to stop him.

"How would you know what I want to do?" Harry said, spitting out the words furiously. He raised his wand even further. "Since when do you know anything about me?"

"I know you better than you think, Harry," the old man said calmly as if his life were not in danger. He did not appear to be worried in the least. "I have watched you for a long time."

"Yes, Headmaster. Yes you have, haven't you?" Harry said dangerously. To Hermione, the voice sounded odd – so unlike the Harry that she knew. His usually respectful and gentle voice was contorted with rage, disgust, and something akin to arrogance. "You _are_ the great puppet master, pulling all the strings, aren't you Dumbledore?" he sneered, sounding too much like Snape for comfort.

"Put the wand down, Harry," Dumbledore said in a harsh voice that commanded obedience.

"No," Harry said slowly and angrily, the lilt of arrogance tingeing his every word. "I don't think I will."

Dumbledore did something next that shocked everyone in the room. His voice seemed to imitate thunder and reverberate from every corner of the room. It was like a Howler, only ten times worse. "Put the wand down, Tom!" he yelled angrily.

Harry blinked in surprise. His features seemed to melt and fuse together, back into the face that Hermione knew so well – her Harry, the one who would risk anything to help his friends. She watched in agony, as the pain and realisation of what he had almost done seemed to collapse in on him, like a heavy weight dragging him under. Slowly, Harry lowered his wand. Everyone in the room, including Dumbledore, gave a sigh of relief, as the Headmaster snatched the wand from Harry's limp grasp.

Without a word, the old wizard put a comforting arm around Harry's shoulder, shielding him from the staring eyes of everyone in the room, and led the shell-shocked boy out and up the stairs – presumably to the smallest bedroom, which Harry called his own.

Dumbledore returned some time later, with a grave expression on his aged, haggard face. Hermione could see the toll his earlier confrontation with Harry had placed on the old man's countenance.

In answer to the questioning look from the group, he sighed wearily and said, "He's asleep right now, and I ask you not to bother him. He will come around in his own time, in his own way. Right now, he has many issues and conflicting emotions and he needs to sort through them before he will be ready to see any of you. I ask that you respect his wishes," he said, looking pointedly at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

"But..." Ginny began.

"He expressly asked that you stay away for now, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said kindly. "I understand that you have some things to tell us. Perhaps something that will shed some light on this situation?"

Seeing that the Headmaster was not going to back down on this issue, Ginny asked, "What would you like to know?" in a resigned voice, her finger still fingering the spot on her forehead where she had felt Harry's scar burning.

"Starting from the beginning is always useful, in my experience, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said gently.

"Yes," Mr. Weasley interjected. "Your mother and I would like to know how you lot came to be here in the first place," he said disapprovingly, looking at all four of his children.

"That would be my doing, Arthur," Tonks said from behind. All eyes swung to look at her. "I had a rather disturbing conversation with Harry this morning, and could tell he was really down. Then I overheard his cousin making plans to humiliate him."

She paused to look Dudley up and down in disgust. The boy was still on the sofa with the blanket hitched up around him, almost covering his face; he seemed to be in pure terror at the sight of so many wizards in his living room.

"I thought Harry could do with some backup," she added, "so I Apparated to the Burrow and convinced Ron, Fred, and George here to come and help him out."

"It didn't take much to convince us," Ron admitted. "You know we'd do anything for Harry."

"Yes, Mr. Potter is very lucky to have friends such as you," Dumbledore said with amusement, a knowing gleam in his eye.

"Anyway," Ron said sheepishly, "I was writing a letter to Hermione at the time, and I sort of ended it in a way that gave the impression that there was serious trouble at Harry's."

"Naturally, we were worried, so Ginny and I made our way over here to make sure that everyone was all right," Hermione added.

"And then what happened?" Lupin asked patiently. He looked haggard and worn to Hermione's eye, but healthy enough considering he had two weeks till the next full moon.

"Harry asked us to stay a bit, and since we had come all this way, we thought it wouldn't hurt. After all, these Muggles are the worst sort, aren't they? How were we to know he'd be safe?" Ginny told the adults. They all exchanged knowing looks that affirmed what Ginny had just said, while Dudley let out a squeak of protest. One warning glance in his direction from Moody, and he was silent.

"After Dung advised us about the Dementors," Ginny continued, "and told us that the Ministry wouldn't be bothering us with owls for using magic, we all decided to make sure we remembered how to do certain spells that might prove useful if we were attacked. You know… to protect ourselves," she said defensively upon seeing the adults exchange pointed looks.

"I told you that's what they were doing," someone, perhaps Dung, mumbled.

After seeing the teens exchange confused looks, Dumbledore explained. "While we did say you would _not_ get into trouble for using magic this evening, thanks to a favour owed to me by Mafalda Hopkirk at the Office of Underage Wizardry, we did _not_ expect for you to actually _use_ magic unless situations deemed it necessary and you were required to defend yourselves," Dumbledore said with definite amusement, as he surveyed the guilty faces of the teens over his half-moon spectacles. "The underage magic sensors were kept very busy tonight, and it seems I have some grovelling to do. Ms. Hopkirk graciously covered for several of you all evening," he explained.

"Suppose I forgot to mention 'bout that," Dung mumbled, rubbing his stubbly chin.

Mrs. Figg hit Dung over the head with her handbag, making him yelp. "I told you I should have delivered the message, Albus!" she bellowed angrily. "Why you still trust him after last summer's fiasco, I'll never understand!"

"When're you going to let that go, Figgy?" Mundungus whined. "Any bloke can make a mistake!"

"Any bloke indeed!" she screeched. "You, Mundungus Fletcher, are a sorry mistake all on you own!"

"Enough!" Dumbledore roared, causing everyone in the room to focus their attention back on the matter at hand. "This is not helping us determine what happened here tonight!"

"Wormtail!" the twins gasped, as they flew out of the room towards the kitchen. Everyone looked surprised and curious as they craned their necks in the direction of the kitchen.

"He won't be in there," Ginny said quietly, just before a string of obscenities and loud noises Mrs. Weasley would certainly not approve of came streaming from the vicinity of the kitchen.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and gave her a significant look, but said nothing.

"He's gone!" Fred said disgustedly, slamming through the door, followed closely by George who was carrying Hedwig's ruined, empty cage. George had an identical look of anger and disgust on his freckled face.

"Perhaps you'd better explain," Dumbledore said, looking in Ginny's direction.

"Fred and George used a locking spell to keep us safe," Ginny went on. "Only we didn't know at the time that Scabbers, er… Wormtail… you know, Peter Pettigrew, was in the house in his Animagus form. Hermione used a brilliant bit of magic to find him." Ginny beamed at her brown-haired friend, who blushed at the praise. "She _Summoned_ him."

"Interesting," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I was always under the assumption that one must know where the thing is that we are intending to summon, for that particular spell to work. You are quite exceptional, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, obviously impressed. Dumbledore's praise made Hermione flush even brighter.

"In any case, it worked," Hermione said, trying to hide how pleased she was. "What we didn't know at the time was that Fred and George had no idea how long their spell would last, _and_ it made it impossible to Apparate or Disapparate while in use."

"As we learned when we tried to gain access into the house," Dumbledore said mildly. "Quite impressive bit of magic in your own rights Messrs. Weasley," he said, his blue eyes twinkling as they saluted him. Becoming serious once again, he bid Ginny to continue.

"How did you know that Wormtail had escaped, Miss Weasley?" he asked.

"I saw it in Harry's dream," Ginny explained. "At least I think it was a dream… it's all very confusing."

"I'm not sure I understand," the Headmaster said.

"Harry and I had an argument which resulted in the four of us agreeing to sleep on the floor," Ginny said, looking at her father warily, as if she didn't know how much to say without revealing that she and Harry had grown quite close over the course of the evening.

"I was dreaming of something that happened a long time ago at the Burrow, and Harry dreamwalked into my dream. Then, I did the same to one of Harry's, and through all that I somehow got pulled into one of Harry's visions. I... I saw Voldemort," she said quietly, ignoring the gasps from those around her. "He was talking to Pettigrew. He… he said…"

"He said what, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked reassuringly. "It is very important that I know," he said softly.

Taking a deep breath, she continued, looking steadily at the floor. "He knew Harry was there," she explained. "And he could sense me in the background. He's evil, Professor. He sent Wormtail here to do something, but I'm not certain what."

"Is that all, Miss Weasley?" the old wizard asked her kindly. "Was there any more you can tell us?"

"No, as far as I remember that was all. Pettigrew was supposed to report earlier, and Voldemort was angry because he was late. When Wormtail arrived, he asked for a report, and that's all we heard before we woke up. How did he escape, anyway?" she asked, looking accusingly at the twins.

"Don't look at us! _We _didn't fall asleep," George said indignantly.

"It must have been after the explosion," Fred said.

"What explosion?" Ginny asked, confused.

"The one that either you, or Harry, or both of you were making just before you went deathly still. There was a big wave of magical energy coming off the two of you," Hermione explained.

"We noted this occurrence from the outside," Dumbledore added. "After that, we were able to gain entrance to the house. Whatever caused it was powerful enough to break the charm that had been placed over the house."

"Right before the explosion, the two of you were thrashing around and calling out in your sleep," Hermione told her. "I'm curious… what were you dreaming about? It looked as if you were having some bad nightmares."

"We were," Ginny said with a shudder. "I dreamed of the Chamber and Harry… well… he had several. I don't really feel comfortable sharing them right now," Ginny said, looking down at her feet and gulping. "It was horrible! I felt so useless. I don't know how Harry has held it together so well all this time."

"Harry _is_ strong," agreed Dumbledore. "He has strength of character that many wizards twice his age will never have. However, he is in a great deal of pain right now." Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, do you or young Mr. Weasley know if Harry practices his Occlumency often?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione sighed guiltily and looked at Ron, who seemed to mirror her expression. "No, Professor," Hermione admitted. "I don't believe that Harry _is_ practising his Occlumency at all. He had another episode earlier in the evening and passed out and when he went to sleep he was looking ill again. He said it was just a headache, but I don't believe him. He was clutching his scar and it was too much like all the other times. When I confronted him about it, he got angry and I dropped it."

"Harry told us last year that Professor Snape said he didn't need to go to lessons anymore," Ron added.

"But then after what happened at the end of June," Hermione continued, "I suspect there's something we don't know. I'm beginning to wonder if Harry lied to us."

"Indeed, Miss Granger, Harry was not exactly truthful. Yet neither was he lying." Dumbledore went on. "Professor Snape _did _dismiss Harry from lessons, but only after Harry saw something he was not meant to see. I have already discussed this with Mr. Potter, and he knows my feelings on the matter. Arrangements will have to be made to see that he is properly trained. After tonight, I fear that Tom is trying to take control of Mr. Potter's mind, and I believe Harry's life may be in danger," he said sadly.

"W-what do you mean, Professor? Will Harry be all right?" Ginny asked fearfully.

"Harry is not himself, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said wearily. "From what I could gather he is now being influenced by Voldemort through their mind connection. At times, he appears to be himself, but in an instant he… is not." He sighed deeply. "I cannot be sure how long this will last. It may be temporary, or it may be permanent. The crux of the matter is that Harry must learn Occlumency before Tom finds a way to completely take over. That is why I must insist that he stay here at his aunt's home until we find a suitable teacher."

"Why can't you teach him, Albus?" Lupin asked.

Turning his sad eyes to the werewolf, Dumbledore answered, "Harry is angry with me right now. Coupled with the hate emanating from Tom, I seem to make the connection stronger. Harry asked that his friends stay away. He is very… unlike himself, and I think I will indulge him on this. I do not know at this point if it would be safe for the children to see each other."

"Harry would never hurt us!" Ginny exclaimed defiantly. "Tell him, Dad! You know Harry. He would _never_ hurt us!"

"I must agree with Albus on this, Ginny. I'm sorry," her father sighed regretfully, "truly I am. I trust his judgement and if he thinks it best that you not see Harry, then I have to insist."

"It will not be forever, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said gently. "I promise that as soon as this is resolved, you may see Mr. Potter straight away. In three weeks he will turn sixteen, and then he can leave this place. Until then, we will step up our protection here in Surrey. Constant Vigilance, eh, Alastor?" the Headmaster said, smiling at the old Auror.

Turning back to the young people who looked ready to protest again, he tried to reassure them. "Given time, this development may resolve itself without our interference. Harry is a very powerful wizard and possesses great strength of mind for one so young. He has shown resistance to the Imperius Curse in the past, and I feel certain he will find a way to shut Tom out of his mind for good. In the meantime, we need to give him as much support as possible. Perhaps a letter would let him know you are thinking of him and wishing him well?"

Hermione exchanged uneasy glances with Ron and Ginny. She was certain that they were thinking the same as she…a letter could not possibly suffice. They needed to _talk_ to Harry and make sure that he was all right. Seeing the adults' stubborn looks, however, Hermione knew it was pointless. Their minds were made up. She nodded her head in submission and watched Ron and Ginny do the same, albeit reluctantly.

"Good," Dumbledore said gravely. "Now, Miss Granger. I'm afraid I have some rather difficult news to break to you." He paused, as if unsure how to say what he had to say, in the gentlest way possible. "I'm very sorry I could not inform you of this earlier, but other matters were more pressing."

A sudden fear gripped Hermione's heart, and she knew instinctively that what Dumbledore had to say would not be good. For one thing, the Headmaster never had trouble saying what needed to be said. The sad look on his face spoke volumes.

"It's my parents, isn't it?" Hermione whispered.

"Your parents are fine," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Thankfully, they were out for the evening, or things may have turned out very differently. We had feared that you and Miss Weasley were at home when the Death Eaters attacked, but luckily your instinct to help Mr. Potter served you well tonight. The sad fact is that your home was destroyed."

Hermione's knees buckled, and she felt Ron's supporting arm catch her before she fell to the floor. She managed to croak, "Crookshanks?"

"Is unharmed," Dumbledore said kindly. "He is a very smart cat, Miss Granger, as I'm sure you know. He was found outside your home in a tree, moments after the Aurors arrived on the scene."

Hermione gulped a thankful breath of air. "A-and where are my parents, now Professor?" she asked.

"They are being cared for by Molly Weasley," he answered. "When you are ready, I will see that you are taken to them. I think you owe your parents some explanations," he told her shrewdly.

"I-I'd like that. And, yes I do owe them an explanation. One that is long overdue, I'm afraid. Thank you, Professor," she said, stepping away from Ron's comforting support and gathering her things together.

"What about the rest of us?" Ginny asked. "I don't want Harry to feel as if we abandoned him. Would it be possible to stay here for the rest of the night?" she asked. "…just in case he's able to see us?"

"If your father agrees, I see no harm in that," Dumbledore agreed. "This house is as safe as any. Safer in many respects. The unfortunate incident with Peter will not be repeated. I have already taken measures to correct the flaw in the wards that surround this house, and have also stepped up guard activity around the premises. I do not think Mr. Potter will want to see anyone tonight, however. Now, it is late and I'm sure everyone is very tired. For this reason, I'll make arrangements to have everyone escorted safely home in the morning."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione heard Ginny say. Somehow, she knew her couldn't leave until she saw Harry one last time. Hermione saw Ginny touch her fingers to her forehead, her face clouding over.

"If you please," Dumbledore said, addressing the adults in the room. "I must discuss some things with the members of the Order of the Phoenix before I retire for the evening. It has been a rather eventful day, and I'm no spring chicken, after all," Dumbledore said, a smile twisting his bearded face. "If you don't mind following me into the kitchen," he said, extending his gaze to the Order members, "we'll get this over with so that everyone may get some well deserved sleep. Mr. Lupin will then see Miss Granger," he paused, and surveyed the close proximity of Hermione and Ron knowingly, "and young Ronald to Grimmauld Place, where I believe her parents are most anxious to converse with her."

"If there are no more questions?" he asked, looking at each teenager in turn. Fred and George looked as if they wanted to be included in the meeting in the kitchen, but the Headmaster held up his hand. "No, Messrs. Weasley, I'm afraid this meeting is for Senior Order members only. You will be filled in on everything later. Any other questions?" he asked. When no one answered he said mildly, "Very good. If you'll follow me?" he said, leading the adults out of the room.

He paused at the door to address Ginny. "While Mr. Potter is asleep, I see no harm in you checking in on him. I gave him a little something to ensure that he gets an adequate night's rest. He will not wake for some time, and I only ask that you not disturb his sleep." Dumbledore sighed after this, sounding very old and weary to Hermione's ears.

Hermione wondered if Dumbledore had read Ginny's mind because she knew her friend well enough to know that nothing would keep her from seeing Harry tonight.

The mood in the kitchen was grim. Lupin was the first to speak. "Tell me, Albus, how bad is it?" he asked, not bothering to hide the edge of concern in his usually controlled voice.

Dumbledore sat down tiredly, signalling the others to do the same. All of the members of the Order looked worriedly towards their leader for reassurances, as they took their places around the table – assurances he could not give to them. This made his burden all the more heavy to bear.

"The situation is not good, I'm afraid," he said. "I did not hold much back from the children. Harry is indeed not himself. I fear that Tom is attempting to take over, and the angrier Harry becomes, the more he is susceptible to his influence. Tonight's events weakened the barrier even more. It is as I feared. There is no doubt that as Tom becomes stronger, Harry's resistance to the mind-connection becomes weaker."

Sighing, he said, "If Harry does not learn Occlumency soon, he may be lost to us forever. This is a risk that we cannot afford to take. He is too important to our cause to lose him now, especially after everything we have done to protect him." He paused, taking in the grave faces of those around him. "Therefore, I have decided to call in a trusted friend from overseas, to help us with this matter."

"Who do you have in mind, Albus?" Moody asked in his usual straight-forward growl.

"Stephen Hunter," he answered, ignoring the gasps from around the table.

"Hunter?" asked Tonks incredulously. "Did you say _Stephen_ Hunter, the ex-Auror?"

"Yes, I did," Dumbledore admitted mildly.

"He's a legend!" Tonks said with obvious awe. "Books have been written about him!"

"Three, to be exact," the Headmaster affirmed.

"Why would he agree to help us?" Mrs. Figg asked warily. "I understand he wants nothing to do with the Wizarding World since his wife and son were killed. I read it in Witch Weekly," she said with authority.

"You trust that rag?" Tonks said flippantly. "Half of what they print is no more reliable than the Daily Prophet!"

"I quite agree," Mr. Weasley said. "Just last week Molly showed me an article written about Harry. Half of what they printed stretched the truth, and the other half was downright lies."

"In this case they are correct," Dumbledore said in his enigmatic way. "Mr. Hunter _did_ drop out of the Wizarding World, for the most part, after the death of his family. However, I know he will agree to help us."

"And why is that, Albus?" Lupin asked curiously.

"Because, as some of you may remember, James once saved his life. Beyond that, he hates Voldemort with a passion. I think he'll be inclined to train Harry. There is no one more skilled in the art of Occlumency, with the exception of Severus, perhaps. Unfortunately, that situation did not work out as well as I had hoped. In many respects, I feel it may have actually hurt our cause," he said regretfully.

"Severus should have used better judgement in his dealings with Harry," Lupin agreed. "I tried to talk reason into him, but he has his prejudices against me as well."

"Yes, trusting Severus to teach Harry Occlumency was a mistake," Dumbledore agreed. "The more important thing is to move on and correct our errors. Can anyone think of a better solution?"

When no one answered, he moved to adjourn the meeting and stood up. "Unless anyone has any objections, I will contact Mr. Hunter and do my best to convince him to help us. Keep in mind that this may require some sacrifices on our part," he warned them. "It may very well be that Harry must be taken to him."

"All the way to America?" Mrs. Figg asked, shocked.

"Yes, Arabella," Dumbledore affirmed. "It actually may be for the best, if that is indeed where Mr. Hunter resides nowadays."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "We'll do whatever is necessary to protect the boy, Albus. That's what we pledged to do when we joined the Order, after all. Molly and I are quite fond of him, as you know. We think of him as another son, and, just like our children, we would do whatever is best for him, no matter the cost."

"I feel the same," Lupin agreed. "Protecting Harry is the most important thing. If I have to travel half way around the world to do it, then so be it. It's the least I can do for James and Sirius." The others murmured their agreement.

"Good, good," Dumbledore said in a pleased voice.

"How long do you think it will take before he leaves, Albus?" Moody asked, most likely thinking of the security needed until then.

"Harry must stay here until his birthday. That is in three weeks time. I think we should be able to make the necessary arrangements by then. In the meantime, everyone has strict orders to keep a very close eye on the boy. I want to know where he is and what he's doing at all times," the Headmaster said sternly, looking at Mundungus in particular. "Hopefully the effects of Harry's latest encounter with Voldemort will fade, and his resistance will strengthen," he said, more for his own benefit than anyone else's.

As soon as the door was closed behind the Senior Order members, Fred and George rushed to get their Extendable Ears out and eavesdrop on the conversation in the kitchen. In frustration, they both swore loudly and turned to the group that had gathered around them.

"No good," Fred said. "They've used a silencing charm. Can't hear a thing."

"What do you think they're in there talking about?" Lee asked curiously.

"Dunno," George answered. "Whatever it is, it's big. Otherwise they would have included us in on it as well. We've been members since we left school, and they don't keep much from us."

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "They figure we'll find out one way or another anyway, so why bother hiding it?"

As they were talking, Ginny took her opportunity to slip out and up the stairs to Harry's room.

"We'll all meet again tomorrow evening, with a report," Dumbledore told the group in the kitchen. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a letter to write. If I am needed, you know how to contact me."

Turning to Mr. Weasley, he said quietly, "Before I leave, I'd like a private word with you, Arthur."

"Of course, Albus," Mr. Weasley said as he hung back from the group.

"I'll see that Miss Granger and your son are transported to Grimmauld Place, Arthur," Lupin told the two.

"Much obliged, Remus," Mr. Weasley said gratefully, before the werewolf hurried off to collect the two.

When they were alone, Dumbledore turned to Arthur. "What I have to say concerns your daughter," he began.

"Yes," the younger man said in a resigned voice. "I wondered how long it would be before we had this conversation."

"Judging from what was said earlier, it seems she and Harry have grown quite close. While not altogether surprising, it was unexpected in its suddenness. I was not aware of anything other than friendship prior to this evening. Am I wrong in this assumption?" the old wizard asked.

"No, Headmaster. I do not believe you were mistaken. While I know that Ginny was infatuated with Harry in the past, I had thought she'd grown out of it," Mr. Weasley said.

"Ah… yes," Dumbledore mused. "That is the thing about the heart. It does not always turn our feelings off so easily. Young Harry and Ginny seem to have a very unusual bond. This ability to dreamwalk that your daughter described is a serious bit of magic. It is not something easily done, unless there is a deep bond between the two individuals. The fact that it was a reciprocal experience is most unusual."

"I had thought… but then…" Mr. Weasley spluttered, at a loss for words. He was unused to thinking of his little Ginny as grown up. To him, she would always be his little girl. Although he was fond of Harry, the thought of the two of them being so close made him uncomfortable.

As if sensing his mood, Dumbledore skilfully steered the topic of conversation towards its original intent. "My fear is that Ginny has now become a target. If Voldemort is aware of Harry's feelings for your daughter – which I have no doubt he at the very least suspects – I can only surmise that his intentions are to use it to his advantage. For this reason, I feel it best that your family remain at Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer."

"Why, yes… yes, of course, Albus," Mr. Weasley stammered. "You know we'll do as you suggest. Do you really think Ginny could be a target of You-Know-Who?" he asked fearfully.

"I do," Dumbledore said regretfully. "I wish it were not the case, but I'm afraid at this point we can only assume that your Ginny may be second only to Harry on Voldemort's list of Most Wanted. He used Harry's feelings for Sirius to lure him into a trap, and I have no doubts that he will try to exploit this situation as well."

"I refuse to let anything happen to my daughter, Albus," Arthur said with staunch determination. "When we joined the Order it was to fight against this sort of evil so that our children could live normal, peaceful lives without fear. Ginny has already been through so much. I-I never expected any of this."

"Life rarely gives us what we expect, my boy," Dumbledore said sympathetically. "Sometimes we must muddle though as best as we can, and try to make the most of it. At least you can be comforted in the fact that your family is, at this point, whole and healthy. We can not see what the future holds, but you must never give up hope. _That_ is what we are fighting to preserve."

Changing the subject, Dumbledore inquired, "I suppose you will be staying here tonight?"

"Yes… yes. I-I think it's for the best," the younger man answered. "I don't think Ginny has any intentions of leaving until she sees Harry at least once."

"Quite a remarkable daughter you have there, Arthur. Most remarkable," Dumbledore said quietly, almost to himself. "Harry is a most fortunate young man. Her strength may just save us all."


	19. The Morning After

Disclaimer:   
The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter Nineteen**

"**The Morning After"**

Morning came with a drizzle. Leaning on a half-open window in the living room of Privet Drive, Ginny felt the spray of raindrops on her skin and marvelled how the weather reflected her mood perfectly. Just how_ had _ her life changed so drastically in less than twenty-four hours? Only yesterday morning she was waking up to the smell of bacon in the Granger home. It seemed so long ago.

Last night, she had sneaked into Harry's room to check on him but, true to her word, she had not bothered him. When she'd quietly entered the room, Harry was fast asleep on his bed, fully clothed and lying on his back. Walking to the edge of the bed, she hesitated briefly, wondering what she was doing there. Harry had just been through a major ordeal and needed his rest. Ginny remembered chiding herself for her selfishness. He didn't need any more disruptions, no matter how much she needed to talk to him.

Watching him sleep, Ginny remembered pondering on how vulnerable he had seemed under the spell of the dreamless sleep potion that Dumbledore had given him. Very rarely had she ever seen his face so relaxed and peaceful. The Harry she was familiar with seemed to bear the weight of the world on his slight but strong shoulders during his waking hours. Out of frustration, she balled her fists tightly. Why had it all come down to him? What was so special about Harry Potter that the Fates had decided, long ago, that he was the One?

Ginny had no answers for these questions. All she knew was the truth her heart whispered to her, when she took the time to listen. She had tried to fight it – had tried to deny it – but it kept coming back to the same realisation; he was, and always would be, part of her very soul.

She had crawled into bed with him, and carefully laid her head on his evenly rising chest. As if by instinct, he had immediately snuggled closer to her, their bodies forming together as if they had been doing it forever. It felt so_ right_ that it was hard to believe she had lived so long without it, and slowly she drifted off to sleep.

They had stayed like that till the early morning storm made its presence known, rousing Ginny from her dreamless sleep. Just as quietly as she had entered, she slipped out of the bed cautiously so as to not wake him, and made her way to the living room to gather her belongings. The quietness of the house, however, coupled with the sounds of the storm brewing outside, had sufficiently distracted her from her original purpose.

Touching her forehead to the cool, newly repaired glass in front of her at exactly the spot where Harry's scar would be, she braced her arms on the windowsill and gulped in the cool morning air. The shadow of pain from the lightning-bolt scar still lingered slightly and, even though she had no clue what it meant, she welcomed it. Perhaps it was her overactive imagination, or maybe it was just an after-effect of last night's dreamwalk. Whatever it was, the pain connected her to Harry, and she was not willing to sacrifice the feeling just yet. She'd hold on to it as long as possible.

The rain was picking up again, its torrents driving into the pavement with a brutality that made the turbulence coursing through her body feel justified. She didn't know where this fury had come from. Somehow, it felt separate from her, almost like she didn't own the feeling. Since waking last night, her state of mind had been unusually on edge. She felt almost raw inside from the range of emotions churning through her.

Instinctively Ginny knew something significant had changed, but she wasn't quite sure what. Thankfully, no one had picked up on anything odd yet. Presently she didn't feel up to putting this... whatever it was, into words – not when she was so confused about it herself.

Luckily, she was a master at controlling her emotions; it was how she had escaped detection for so long during her first year, after all. Only Harry had ever been able to elicit a total lack of emotional control from her, shattering her carefully devised and perfectly rehearsed cover. When it came to him, she was terrible at concealing her feelings. At least she had been up until last year.

She sighed inwardly as a bolt of lightning flashed and the thunder reverberated in the dark sky. The noise of the storm drowned out the sounds around her, making her miss the soft footsteps that approached from behind.

"I believe this storm delays our plans to leave for the time being," a familiar voice stated near her ear.

Jumping slightly in surprise, Ginny turned to her father and gave him a weak smile. "Yes, it does tend to put a damper on our return home, doesn't it?"

Looking past her out the window into the garden and the street beyond, Arthur Weasley frowned. "I hope the poor blokes who are on guard duty this morning remembered to put an_ Impervius_ Charm on their cloaks."

A sudden unexplainable surge of annoyance passed through Ginny.

"Dumbledore is a fool if he thinks a few second-rate wizards are going to stop Voldemort from getting what he wants," a cool, angry voice said from the doorway.

Both Ginny and her father turned in surprise, to see Harry casually leaning against the doorframe.

"Harry," Arthur said brightly. "I didn't realise that you were up. How are you feeling, son?"

The figure at the doorway sneered arrogantly, as if Arthur had not addressed him. "It'll be interesting to see how long it is before the Dark Lord finds a way around the old man's little obstacles. You do know it's a lost cause, don't you?"

"That's a matter of opinion, I suppose," Arthur answered as benignly as possible, while obviously taking great efforts to control his temper.

Ginny shivered in spite of herself. Something about the way Harry was looking at them and the way he was speaking, strongly reminded her of somebody. It was disconcerting, really, and quite scary. Looking at him now, it suddenly hit her how similar Harry was acting to her memory of sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, the boy Ginny had come to know so well. It was as if her nightmare were coming to life.

Perhaps sensing her fear, Harry strode purposefully towards her. Ginny's eyes widened as he stood mere inches from her face, completely ignoring the presence of her father standing by her side. Looking at her intently with an expression she had never seen him use, he said, "I was disappointed to find you gone this morning, luv," in a voice that was low and suggestive. "I had hoped you'd stick around."

Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She didn't know how to reply. This behaviour was so uncharacteristic of Harry Potter – the Harry she knew – that it left her speechless. She could feel the waves of emotions rolling off him, soaking into her as if she was a dry sponge. There were so many emotions it was overwhelming and frightening.

Ginny knew she shouldn't be feeling this. It was wrong... something was very wrong with her and she needed it to stop. Harry's emotions were mixed with her own. So tightly wound together were they, she couldn't feel where his began and hers ended. It was almost torture and she didn't know_ what_ to do, except gasp and attempt to step away. She needed him as far away from her as possible.

Luckily, her father noticed her distress. Pulling her away from Harry, he forced Ginny to stand behind him, as he calmly faced the dark-haired teenager he had come to think of as a son. Harry continued to stare at her as she peeked out from behind her father. His expression, though unreadable, was intense.

"Gather your things, Ginny," he said firmly, while not taking his eyes off Harry. "We'll be leaving soon."

The two men stared at each other wordlessly for a few minutes, silently challenging each other. Harry's seemingly calm, cool demeanour matched Mr. Weasley's quiet concern and controlled anger. Harry broke eye contact first, arrogantly dismissing the older wizard with a cocky wink, leaving him as red as his Weasley hair. Father and daughter watched him turn and saunter casually out of the room, whistling an upbeat tune.

Her father cleared his throat. "Well," he said weakly. "That was quite strange."

So caught up in the jumble of emotions churning through her, Ginny barely reacted except to nod her head in agreement.

Harry had awoken from his deep sleep to find Ginny gone from his bed, and that immediately annoyed and frightened him. He had known she was there, because he had woken up earlier and had to shift around her, to bring the blood flow back into the arm pinned underneath. Before the sleeping draught took effect again, he had taken a minute to stare openly at her. Some of the anger churning inside him had quickly dissipated as he studied her sleeping face. He traced a finger down her jawbone to her slightly open lips, and paused long enough to feel their softness.

_'Merlin, she's beautiful,'_ he thought.

A voice in the back of his mind surged to life just then, drowning out the happy feelings that had threatened to break free._ 'Beautiful, iss ssshe? Too badd I can't sssee your little girlfriend for myssself. But tell me Harrry, will it be worth the pain you'll feel when sshee's taken from you?'_ it hissed.

_'I'd never let that happen!'_ he thought angrily, but with a twinge of fear.

_'Jusst like you didn't let it happen to your Godfather?'_ the voice hissed with amusement. Harry flinched inwardly, and the snake knew he'd hit his mark._ 'Come now, Harry. I thought you were cleverer than that! Sshee's a threat to my planss, and you know I don't take threatss lightly. We will be meeting, ssooner or later. Haven't you learned by now that I alwayss get what I want?'_

_'Shut up!'_ he yelled in his mind._ 'I'd rather die than let you touch her!'_

_'I do believe you're ssseriousss about that,'_ the snake mused thoughtfully._ 'But your noble intentionsss have little effect on what I do, or do not do, Potter,'_ he said in a sneering voice._ 'Perhapss that'ss a lesssson I sstill need to teach you.'_

It paused long enough to let Harry relax and begin to drift off to sleep, thinking he was once again alone with his thoughts._ 'That'ss right Harry...'_ the evil voice cooed._ 'Sssleep now... and when you wake up, thingss will be very different... I promissse...'_

After leaving the living room, Harry went back to his room and paced. He was so angry with himself that he was afraid his magic might seep out, and he'd find himself doing something stupid. Then again, maybe if he provoked Dudley into a confrontation he could blow the fat pig up, like he had Aunt Marge a few years ago. Even if he got into trouble, it might just be worth it.

_'Nope,'_ he thought ruefully,_ 'that would cause too much trouble and draw too much attention to me. After what happened downstairs, I don't need any more trouble or attention.'_

Harry didn't know what had come over him. Since last night, whenever he was in the presence of others, he felt different - like he wasn't in control anymore. He found himself saying things that he didn't mean, and doing things he would not normally do. What had he been thinking when he'd said that to Ginny? And in front of her father, no less! That didn't even begin to cover the things he'd said to Mr. Weasley.

He had sensed her fear and intended to comfort her. Instead he had scared her even more. He had no idea why he had done it. Whatever was going on was beginning to frighten him. Feeling totally out of control was terrifying, and he didn't trust himself to be anywhere near Ginny – or anyone else, for that matter.

A sudden fear gripped him. What if he was under the_ Imperius_ Curse? But, no... he had been under that before, and it certainly didn't feel like this. If not the_ Imperius_, then some other spell? Maybe a potion?

Harry racked his brain and tried to think of something that would make him do and say the opposite of what he really wanted. After thinking hard for several minutes and going through all the curses, spells, and potions he had learned so far in his five years at Hogwarts, he felt extremely frustrated because nothing came to mind. Maybe it was something new.

Somehow he felt he was missing something... something important. Harry resolved to go through all of his old schoolbooks, as well as the books Sirius and Remus had given him for Christmas, as soon as possible. Right now he didn't think he could concentrate.

Taking a deep breath, he focused his thoughts instead on Ginny. For a moment, the mere memory of her helped calm his frazzled nerves, and made him feel slightly better. He closed his eyes and imagined he could feel her emotions coursing through him. He could feel a range of emotions that he could attribute to her - concern, empathy, confusion, fear, and anger. Feeling certain it was his imagination working overtime, he tried to concentrate on the positive emotions instead of the negative ones. However, when he thought again of what he had said to her downstairs, he immediately began pacing again, cursing himself as he went.

A sharp rap on the door broke his stride. "Come in," he said loudly, hoping that it wasn't Mr. Weasley coming to reprimand him for what he had done downstairs. Or, worse yet, Fred and George.

Thankfully, it was neither. Instead, Dudley poked his massive blonde head into the room, trying his best to look intimidating. "Before_ your kind_ leave, Potter, I insist they wake my friends up from whatever evil spell you've put them under," he told his cousin with more bravado than he probably felt. "I don't trust you to do it properly, and Piers' mother wants him home early this morning. They have to go to his grandmother's house today."

Part of Harry thought it amusing that Piers even had a grandmother who cared to see him. Another part of him was extremely annoyed with Dudley for his crack about his Wizarding skills. Just as he was about to make a snide retort and tell his cousin to go away, though, he found himself saying something completely different.

"Of course I'll ensure that your friends are taken care of," Harry said walking over to him with a charming smile.

Dudley was completely taken aback by Harry's pleasantness. Thinking that he had some ulterior motive, he stammered, "A-and why would you do that?"

"Because you asked, mate, why else?" he found himself replying, cuffing his cousin on the shoulder in a jovial way. "After all, you are my_ family_, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," Dudley spluttered. "I s-suppose."

"My, you're looking dapper this morning, Dud," he said with a low, approving whistle. "I bet the ladies would really go for that rugged look you have going on."

"T-thanks," Dudley replied uncertainly, looking down at his rumpled clothing. He appeared extremely confused at Harry's odd behaviour.

Although outwardly he appeared pleasant and charming, somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he was furious. He knew exactly what he was doing but it was as if his body was not his anymore. He tried with all his might to break free of whatever had its grip on him, but it was useless. Whatever was going on was obviously some kind of Dark Magic and that only led one place. Voldemort.

"Now be a good Muggle and go eat some breakfast," he heard himself tell his cousin dismissively with a wave of his hand and a small push. "I'll see that your problem gets dealt with very soon, and then you and I are going to have a little talk. Oh, and Dudley... say hello to Ginny for me." He gave his cousin a parting wink and a cock-eyed smile.

Dudley left, spluttering and stammering as he went. When Harry closed the door on him he found himself seething with rage. How dare he dismiss him? This was not_ his_ house - it belonged to Dudley. Even if Potter_ did_ grow up here and occupy a room for a few weeks every year, it would never be his home. Dudley would see to that, just as he had for the past fourteen years.

More than a little disgruntled, he trudged downstairs in his normal, noisy way. Dudley didn't trust Potter to do what he said he would do. So, even if he hated it, he supposed he would take care of the situation himself. Maybe that red-headed girl would help.

A slow grin appeared on his fat, pudgy face. Potter had practically given him permission – not that he needed permission, mind. Sure his cousin was barking mad, but that didn't change the fact that the girl was extremely pretty. Feeling slightly better, he walked towards the kitchen with a renewed bounce in his step.

As he neared the living room, however, he heard several voices. Pausing just outside the door to listen, he recognised one voice as the red-head and the other as her horrid father. They appeared to be arguing.

"I don't care what you say, Dad," the girl was saying. "Harry wouldn't hurt me. I refuse to listen to this anymore."

"Ginny," her father pleaded. "Harry is not himself, and that makes me want to get you as far away from him as possible. I know that he once saved your life, and for that I am very grateful-"

"-don't forget, Dad," she interrupted. "He saved your life as well last Christmas!"

"Of course I didn't forget," he answered impatiently. "It was the manner in which he_ did_ save my life that worries me. I said this earlier, and I'll say it again. I love Harry as if he was my own son, but that's_ not_ the issue. You are my daughter and my job is to protect you. Right now Harry is unstable, and I think it best that you stay as far away from him as possible."

"You don't understand!" she raged.

Before she had a chance to get any further, her father cut her off. "I refuse to budge on this, Ginny. I know that if your mother were here, she would support my decision wholeheartedly. You are not to see Harry anymore, and that's final."

"You can't do that!" she yelled.

Arthur sighed heavily as he looked at his daughter's angry face. He just hoped that she'd be able to forgive him once this was all over. "I realise that once school starts, the matter will be out of my hands. Hopefully by then, Dumbledore will have an answer regarding Harry's odd behaviour. Until then, we just have to trust that he has the situation well in hand."

He walked over and put a comforting arm around Ginny's stiff shoulders. "He's taken care of the boy for most of his life, and I feel certain he will find a solution to this problem as well. Before you know it, Harry will be back to his old self."

"And if that happens, will you change your mind?" she asked angrily.

Pausing, he answered carefully, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"That doesn't reassure me, Dad," she retorted.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. It's the best I can do right now. Even if Harry's situation changes, he's still the number one target of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Linking you with Harry almost puts you in as much danger as him right now. After last night... well, my priority is to keep you safe. If that means keeping the two of you apart, then so be it."

"You don't understand," she stated a little too calmly.

"What exactly don't I understand?" he father asked. Something in her voice gave him pause.

"It's too late," Ginny said quietly with a touch of sadness. "We're already linked."

Narrowing his eyes, he surveyed his daughter, trying to decipher what she had just said. "W-what do you mean... you're already linked?"

"We're life bonded," she whispered. "I can feel it."

Her father looked at her in horror. "Are you certain?" he asked fearfully.

"Well, as I've never had it happen before, I can't be one hundred percent certain," she said cynically. "But from what I know of the ritual, I'd say that it's true. I'm life bonded to Harry, and there's nothing anyone can do to change it."

Her father paled. "If this is true, then we need to speak to Dumbledore right away."

"I'm sure he already knows," Ginny said calmly. "As does V-Voldemort."

From Dudley's vantage point through the crack in the door, he could see a sort of silent communication going on between father and daughter. Confused, he was just about to turn and leave, when Fred and George appeared from nowhere on either side of him.

"Lurking about in your own home, Dursley?" the twin on his right said mischievously.

"No, Fred. I think old Dudders here is eavesdropping," the twin on his left said thoughtfully. Grinning evilly, he pulled out his wand. "Perhaps we could help him out and enlarge his ears so that he can hear other people's_ private_ conversations better."

Dudley's already large eyes widened even further, on seeing the wizards pointing their wands at him. Backing away, he fought a scream that threatened to escape from his mouth.

"Didn't anyone ever bother teaching you manners, Dursley?" Fred said threateningly.

"I-I was j-just-" he stuttered.

Luckily, Mr. Weasley had heard the commotion. Popping his head in the kitchen, he looked at his sons disapprovingly. "What are you two doing?" he asked angrily. "I thought I told you not to tease the poor Muggle."

"We caught him eavesdropping," George growled.

Arthur looked sharply at the cowering Dudley. "How long were you standing there?" he asked threateningly, all traces of kindness gone from his face.

"A-about five minutes or s-so," Dudley stammered.

Arthur shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, son," he said as he drew out his wand.

"W-want are you doing?" he cried. "P-please..."

Before he could beg any further, Arthur performed the spell. "_Obliviate!_"

Dudley took on the appearance of someone who had just been hit hard over the head. His eyes became unfocused and he appeared to sway slightly. The twins looked at their father in confusion and curiosity but he ignored them.

"Now son," Arthur said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What was it you needed to speak to me about?"

Coming back into focus, Dudley blinked. What was it he had wanted? Oh, oh... yes. Now he remembered. "I was looking for someone to wake up my friends," he said timidly.

"Your friends?" Arthur asked, shooting his sons a questioning look that clearly said he was not pleased.

"Guess we forgot to mention them," Fred said weakly.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," George chimed in. He did not look especially sorry, however.

"What have you done?" Arthur asked with a hint of a threat.

"It wasn't us, Dad," Fred answered. "We swear! It was Hermione. She gave them a few drops of sleeping draught to knock them out."

"Where are they?" the older wizard asked tiredly.

"U-up stairs," Dudley answered.

"Let's go," he told the boy. Turning to his sons, he ordered, "While I'm gone, I need the two of you to finish putting this house back in order. I want it exactly the way you found it yesterday. And leave your sister alone. She's been through enough. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," they said together.

"Good. Now, lead the way, my boy," he said jovially, turning to Dudley. "And on the way upstairs, would you be so kind as to explain how those telliphisions boxes work?"

Once Dudley had gone and the door was safely closed, Harry groaned and threw himself down on the bed hard, running a hand through his unruly hair in an effort to calm himself.

The conversation had not gone at all to his liking. He had meant to insult Dudley, not say nice things to him. Why had he done that? He'd had no intention of having a conversation with Dudley, and since when did he consider Dudley a friend? He thought his cousin looked like hell, and he would_ never_ in his right mind suggest that Dudley_ ever_ approach Ginny! There had to be a logical explanation.

Harry thought back on the incident last night with Dumbledore. He remembered waking up from the nightmare/vision seething with rage. Voldemort had mentioned Ginny in this latest vision, and Wormtail had been there as well.

No one had needed to tell him that Wormtail had found a way to escape. Harry had known that capturing the rat would not be that easy. He had fooled Wizards twice as experienced as him, even if he did appear to be a bumbling, foolish coward.

He remembered feeling separate from himself - distant. His scar had hurt, but not as much as it usually did. That was different. Come to think of it, his scar wasn't bothering him much now, either. It prickled slightly, but this was a change from the constant pain he usually felt.

Harry furrowed his brows in concentration. He definitely felt different, but how and why? His mind felt wide open and vulnerable. Yes... that was it. He felt the connection to Voldemort, and it was wide open. How had this happened?

Jumping up, he began pacing even more heavily than before._ 'What have you done?'_ he thought desperately.

The laugh penetrated his very skull, making him drop to his knees in pain and shock._ 'You didn't believe me when I sssaid thingsss would be different, did you Harry?"_ the snake hissed.

_'You can't do this! I won't let you!'_ Harry told the voice defiantly as he pressed his hands to his ears in an effort to block out the voice.

_'You have no choice,'_ the snake replied gleefully._ 'You belong to me now. I've won, Harry, and nothing that old fool, Dumbledore, doesss will change it.'_

Part of Harry knew the snake was right. Maybe he_ should_ just give up. How could he fight the monster? He was nothing – nobody! Just a scared kid who had no idea how to beat the thing residing inside him.

Another, more stubborn part of him said to resist. Why should he give in and let the tosser win? Last night when Dumbledore had called him out, Tom had retreated. If he had such total control over him, why was Harry able to break through then?

_'You're bluffing,'_ Harry thought triumphantly._ 'You_ don't_ have total control over me, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd have me walk off a cliff or over a bridge or something, and be done with it.'_

Harry felt Voldemort's anger and frustration well up inside him. He knew he'd hit a nerve._ 'Inssolent boy!'_ the snake cried._ 'You think this isss a game? I asssure you, Harry, this isssn't a game, but you will loossse if you continue to ressisst me!'_

_'Then I'll lose knowing I fought my hardest,'_ Harry told the voice mulishly.

The snake seemed to recoil and fade. Its voice became distant as it retreated._ 'I'll be back, Harry, when you leassst expect it. This isssn't over yet.'_

Somehow Harry knew that was the most truthful thing the snake had uttered during their entire conversation.

A/N: As always, thanks to Arnel my PhoenixSong beta, and to those who have taken the time to read and review.


	20. Epilogue: The Return of the Dursleys

**Epilogue "The Return of the Dursleys"**

The rain hung on through the rest of Sunday but thankfully by evening the grey clouds had given way to sunshine and the dampness had begun to leave the air. The house on Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey was unnaturally quiet. No one would guess that the house was currently occupied by two teenage boys, each with his own propensity for trouble.

Dudley Dursley, the larger and louder of the two boys, was presently sleeping off a hangover which he had incurred after having drowned his sorrows in Vodka and other spirits immediately after his cousin's strange guests had departed.

The other sat brooding in his room, he pondered his most recent troubling dream…

_He and Ginny were flying, chasing each other on their brooms and laughing. Harry could feel the cool wind whipping through his __hair__ and the thrill of being in the air with the freedom it gave him. He looked over, watching her red hair streaming behind in the wind. The dream was so real; it felt as if she were really there._

_Harry looked over at Ginny's face, which was flushed and glowing from excitement and anticipation.__ They were racing - seeing who could reach the Snitch first. He called out to her, teasing her._

_For a moment she responded by smiling, but then her smile became a sneer, and the sneer turned into a laugh. This was not Ginny's laugh, however, full of life and mischief. It was a cold, high-pitched laugh. The sort of laugh that sends shivers down one's spine, and makes a person want to run and hide. It was the laugh Harry heard whenever the Dementors got too close._

_Suddenly, Harry wasn't chasing the Snitch any more. He_ was_ the Snitch, and Voldemort was chasing_ him_. Harry felt the rising panic as he flew through the air on his beloved Firebolt, trying to outrun his fear. All the while, Voldemort, with his red eyes and piercing, mocking laugh was gaining on him._

_Suddenly Harry's keen eyes spotted something. A glint of gold up ahead! Could it be the Snitch? Daring to hope, he focused all his attention on the elusive ball. Voldemort had not yet noticed it, so intent was he on catching Harry. Flattening himself on his broom, Harry willed himself to go faster... to gain that little bit of distance he needed to catch it. If he could only catch it, he could end this game once and for all._

_The glowing object grew bigger, its brightness probably reflecting off the setting sun. It almost seemed to be the sun, it was so bright._

_It was right in front of him, now! Just a little further! He __squinted__ his eyes to keep from being blinded, suddenly wishing he had the sort of glasses that changed to block out the glare. Maybe Hermione knew some sort of charm – he'd have to remember to ask her later._

_Harry stretched out his hand. He was so close, and there was no way Voldemort could stop him now! Triumphantly he looked back, only to realise in horror that it was Ginny he had been running from all along, and not Voldemort. He pulled up suddenly, blinking his eyes in confusion._

_The person in front of him seemed to flicker and change with every blink. First it was Ginny, then Voldemort, then Ginny again. Frustrated, Harry didn't know what to do. The Snitch was right in front of him. All he had to do was __reach__ out and take it and victory would be his._

_Looking up, he saw Ginny again. She was smiling. "You won," she said happily._

_"Not yet," he answered. "I haven't caught it yet."_

_"Yes, you have," she laughed. "Look!"_

_Looking down at his palm in amazement, he realised she was right. The Snitch lay docilely in his hand. __But, no...__that__ wasn't right! Snitches aren't docile. They're fast and their wings flutter madly as they struggle to escape._

_With a sinking feeling, he realised it was a Portkey. He looked up just in time to see Ginny change back into Voldemort. His red eyes were piercing and his laugh cold and harsh. Harry had fallen into his trap. The real Snitch was still out there, and Harry had lost. Harry felt himself falling into darkness as the Portkey activated, his whole body filled with fear and panic._

He had lain awake for some time after that, settling his breathing, expecting to hear the cold laugh fill his head – mocking him for his weakness. When it never came, Harry almost felt disappointed because any distraction at this point was better than none. Harry knew he should have felt relieved that Voldemort was gone from his head for now, but somehow that thought didn't comfort him. The question was,how had the Dark Lord come to have that much control over him in the first place and why was he quiet now? Harry had no certain answers, but his instincts told him the mind-link had somehow sealed itself, but for how long, he couldn't be sure.

An insane thought entered his head that he actually wished he_ could_ talk to Voldemort right now. He had loads of questions to ask, and since Dumbledore couldn't orwouldn't give him the answers he needed, maybe he could trick Voldemort into telling him.

These thoughts intensified his restlessness and anger. Here he was, lying in the dark alone in a house he despised, and he was actuallydisappointed that the most evil Dark Lord on the planet was not taunting him inside his head! How deplorable was that? Maybe he should be in St. Mungo's after all.

A tiny truth niggled its way into his consciousness. Voldemort may not be good company, Harry thought, but he made him feel alive – like he had a purpose in life – something to fight against. Right now, he felt dead inside. He suspected his feelings had more to do with his friends' departures, rather than the fact that his enemy was keeping quiet for now.

All of the remaining Weasleys had come up and knocked on Harry's locked door, but Harry had refused to answer. First Fred and George had come, attempting to cheer him up with lame jokes, coupled with sincere encouragement. Harry found himself smiling on more than one occasion, but refused to open the door. For once, the twins had respected his privacy and not barged in uninvited, even though they were more than capable of doing so.

Next Mr. Weasley had come, rapping softly. He had not lingered long, but stated that he and the other Order members would be around if Harry changed his mind and needed to talk. He told Harry that, even though he knew Harry resented it, they were there to help him. Everyone cared about him and only had his best interest and safety in mind. Harry fought his annoyance and tried to recognise this gesture for what it was – a peace offering. _'At least Mr. Weasley doesn't hate me for what I did downstairs,'_ Harry thought gratefully.

Finally, Ginny herself had come. Having been on edge waiting for her to appear, he wasn't surprised when he head her soft footsteps pause outside the door. He remembered the scene clearly. Instinctively, he had walked over to the closed door and stood in front of it, having an internal debate as to what he would do if she asked him to open it. She didn't.

Ginny could feel the waves of emotion rolling off him, and knew he was there, just beyond the threshold. Further, she sensed his conflict and the reasons behind it, as clearly as if the feelings belonged to her. Maybe they did – it was hard to tell these days.

Knowing that words were not needed in this instance, Ginny raised a hand to the door and placed her palm against it, imagining that she were comforting Harry. Silently, she poured her emotions into the boy standing just beyond reach, hoping against hope that he could feel the depth of them.

She wanted him to know that she forgave him – that she knew he wasn't responsible for his behaviour last night or this morning. _'I don't hate you,'_ her mind screamed. Concentrating hard, she willed him to feel her solidarity and commitment, her friendship and faith. Somewhere, deep inside, she also hoped he'd feel her love.

She had no way of knowing that Harry's hand was directly opposite hers. Only the cold, hard wood separated the two extended palms. Without knowing he was doing it, Harry was absorbing the emotions she was sending him and – without knowing why – he suddenly felt significantly better.

Again, he waited for her to say something, but was disappointed when he felt her pull away and retreat down the stairs. The loss was like moving away from a warm fire on a chilly winter evening, and he felt every inch of it. Unconsciously, he reached out his emotions, and enveloped her sad, retreating form in a kind of magical equivalent to a hug.

The emotions swathed around her, reflecting the same sort of feelings she had just poured into him, making her feel wanted, needed, and loved. The impact of the emotions caused her eyes to well up and a few tears to escape her eyes. Deftly, she pushed them away and willed her feet to keep moving. If she stopped now, she knew she might run back upstairs and fling herself into Harry's arms. That would do neither of them any good. Their parting was inevitable, no matter how much they regretted it.

Even though Harry's act hadn't lasted long, Ginny knew that it would take her a lifetime before she would forget the profound effect that single moment had on her very soul. She would recall it to comfort herself in the coming weeks, when Harry's absence became too much to bear. Likewise, Harry's dreams were haunted by the presence of Ginny Weasley, and the gift she had given to him before she departed.

Soon after everyone, save for the two boys who resided there, had left the Dursley home on Privet Drive. Now both, in their own way, were trying to come to terms with what had transpired, all over the course of one unforgettable, hot summer night.

At half past five on Sunday evening, the door burst open with a bang. Vernon Dursley's booming voice could be heard even in the furthest corners of the immaculate home.

"POTTER!" his uncle bellowed. "This house had better be in order, boy, or you'll spend the rest of the summer putting it to rights!"

From the smallest bedroom, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and thanked his lucky stars he had friends who cared enough about his welfare to put the house to rights. In fact, before they had left, everyone had pitched in. As a result, everything that had been broken or damaged was repaired, and all evidence of the party was removed from the house. Someone had even found the list Aunt Petunia had left, and finished that off as well. Really, the house had never looked better.

Harry smirked, thinking to himself that even Aunt Petunia, with her critical attitude and freakish neatness, would have a difficult time finding fault with the cleanliness of the house.

Of course, he hadn't counted on one thing, as he realised half an hour later...

"POTTER! GET DOWN HERE, BOY! I know you've been touching my chess set. It's too bloody clean!" the voice roared.

_'Well,'_ Harry thought ruefully as he silently trudged down the steps to face his aunt and uncle._ 'Even Wizards aren't perfect. Do they even make a spell to put dust back on things, anyway?'_ Maybe Hermione would know.

**FIN**

**A/N: Thanks so much to Arnel for her beta work and advice. You're the best! And thanks also to Melindaleo for your unwavering support and encouragement. What would I do without you?**

**A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially those who wrote to remind me that people are actually reading my stuff. Your encouragement kept me motivated to continue through some very rough and stressful times in my life (i.e. two major moves and a very busy schedule).**

**Thanks also must go to JKR for inventing such wonderfully rich characters and imagery. It's amazing that she's tolerant enough to let us play around with them and not sue us!**

**Now... on to the sequel, "Shadow of the Serpent!"**


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